Its face – small mouthed, chalk white, and black eyed – looked side to side. The head seemed little more than a mask on a pole, twisted by a puppeteer, but Pan knew that impression was wrong. Beneath a brown hood, a fullness suggested thick hair. Long, bony fingers remained folded before the things’ winter cloak. A hint of black and white bands could be seen in the full sleeves. Pan thought the Visitor might be female, judging from the curve of the chest as the Visitor clasped its hands at its waist. The Visitor seemed to hobble over the snow. Pan looked down and saw why. Tentacles coiled and unfurled. They pushed the visitor forward, creating propulsion. The Visitor had no feet.

Pan felt her mouth fall open. She looked at Brynn.

Brynn spread her hands. “A Visitor. Specifically, the supervisor. Don’t worry. She’s not new. She’s here from before. Left behind. And, she can’t see me, unless she does the ghost sight spell. But, I doubt she will.”

Pan faced the Visitor again and stepped back.

The alien woman had moved faster than Pan predicted. Tentacles curved mere feet away. They twitched in the snow, and the woman coiled them into her cloak. They looked like snakes escaping the chill.

Era raised her head and tried to get a good look.

“Chilly weather,” the Visitor said. “A most inhospitable climate. Aren’t you cold?” The Visitor looked between Pan and Era. “Have you been fighting?”

“Only a little,” Pan said.

The Visitor pointed down. “But, you’ve injured her. You’re fighting another Volanter.”

Era grabbed the Visitor’s cloak and pulled the brown fabric to her face. She held it against her cheek. “She kills my people and her own. She’s the reaper. She takes powers from the dead. She was planning to do the same to me.”

Pan felt her eyes go wide. She shook her head.

The Visitor looked at Pan askance, and slim tentacles slipped from her hood. They framed her face, flexing and relaxing, in a scattered rhythm. “Reaper? I don’t know that spell.”

“You can’t know every spell,” Pan said.

“I can and do. They are here in my genetic memory.” The Visitor tapped a single, long finger to her forehead. “I also know there have been no innovations in the original circles for years.” The Visitor’s already slim eyes, narrowed further and regarded Pan.

“How would you know? You’ve been away.”

“I’ve been in the chamber by the spring, sleeping. But I know that Scaldin do not make innovations. You are carriers of spells, not writers. You were born with this reaper circle?” the Visitor asked.

Pan felt herself scowl. “Yes, but…”

“She’s evil,” Era said. “She plans to go to Scaldigir and organize them against you.”

“Now, that is not true,” Pan objected.

A circle appeared before the Visitor. The runes hovered in the air before they burst into light.

The Visitor lightly touched her chin and stared at Pan. “I’ve never seen that before, and it is a dangerous circle. Almost a way to get around the binding.”

Pan’s hands shook, but she pulled the canyon picture from her breast. Pan drew her portal and got out of the cold.

Pan tucked the picture back into her shirt. Her skin warmed as the canyon’s sun graced her with its heat. Everything under her skin, from the muscles to her bones, should feel the warmth soon.

But, Pan still shivered.

“Brynn! Where are you?” Pan paced through the canyon and called to its walls. “Do I have to fight that thing?”

She paused and searched the brown-red walls. Pan rubbed her temples. Brynn wasn’t present, and why would she be? She’d succeeded in showing Pan the form of a Visitor. If Brynn thought the information freed Pan, she was mistaken.

No, it wouldn’t be the information that freed her. It would be something during phase two of the fight. Pan really wished she’d saved her suppressant.

Pan sighted high on one of the walls. She portaled out of the canyon’s valley and stepped onto an outcropping, close to the top of the ridge. Pan plopped down and rested. Wind pulled her hair off her shoulders. It left a chill on her neck, and Pan tried to pull her hair down. She brushed her ear and noticed the absence of the com. Alban had been right. She lost it.

“Now, how do I call for new suppressant? I’ll have to go to a shuttle, but what if that thing shows up?”

At least Sotir couldn’t call her and ask what she’d done. By now, he would have some insight where this situation was going. Maybe, he would rescue her with a new batch of suppressant.

“I’ve got to make my decisions faster next time. They always seem to give him a blind spot.” Pan crossed her legs. She dug one elbow into one knee, and propped her chin in her hand. “Should I time message? How do I get away from this thing? I could go back and not hurt Era, and then Era wouldn’t be able to make me look so bad.” Pan closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She got ready to send any message that might make the situation better.

“Don’t bother,” Brynn said.

Pan opened her eyes. “Brynn.” She crawled towards the ghost of her mentor, who hovered just beyond the ledge. “Why did you think Era would help me? She just sicced that thing on me.”

Brynn gave a ghostly sigh. “I thought Era might be disgusted to see the thing that helped make her, but I miscalculated. You disgust her more.”

Pan’s cheeks warmed. She drew breath to say something counterproductive.

Brynn held up a hand. “The Visitor isn’t after you because of what Era said. That spell the Visitor performed showed her your reaper circle, which isn’t of the common variety. She was going to check on you anyway. That circle makes you aberrant. She’ll want to put you down. So, you fight her, until you can convince her to do otherwise.”

“What?”

“Stall her for a bit, fight her, get your suppressant. Then, you talk to her and follow what I say. Do not use the suppressant, till I give the order.”

Pan felt her mouth open and was sure she wore a look of disgust, but she nodded. “How does this free me?”

The ring of a spell and a flash of light entered the canyon. Pan ducked low, pressing her stomach to the ledge. She peered over and checked the canyon floor. Goosebumps raced along Pan’s arms, and she scooted back against the canyon wall. She didn’t see the Visitor – Volanter – whatever.

Pan waited. She looked for Brynn, but Brynn was gone.

“Please, stay,” Pan whispered.

Something scraped rock – tentacles probably. The sound echoed, and Pan thought it came from around a curve, out of sight. Then again, could she really hear the whisper of pliant flesh on rock? Maybe, she imagined the whole thing. Pan slid back to the edge and looked over again.

A shadow cast itself over the rock wall, towering from the bottom of the cliff-face to the top. The Visitor remained out of sight, but her tentacles betrayed themselves within the shadow. The ones on top waved, a writhing mass. The ones beneath bunched and stretched. They had a hypnotic quality.

Pan pressed low.

“Aberrant.” The word traveled through the canyon like a whisper.

Pan stared at the Visitor’s shadow and watched those tentacles. They moved like sentient threads, like worms.

The Visitor continued, “Unfortunately, that describes you. You are an unpredictable experiment, and I’m sorry, I can’t let you pass. You are, perhaps, not as dangerous as the two Soffigen specimens I found in the forest. But…”

Pan froze, all except her heart. It was the only thing that still moved. It fairly pounded.

“I have cleaned them up,” the Visitor said.

She killed them.

Pan put her hand over her mouth.

The Visitor bobbed into view, and a circle appeared around her. The light rotated over the canyon floor, until it settled. Then, with the sound of a shimmer, it sank into the rock.

The other arcanes – the failed experiments – used circles. They used them to good effect. How did that make them aberrant? Or was it their minds that fit that quality?

The Visitor stretched her neck and called to the ledge, “There you are. You’re bound to that what…? What did you call that circle again?”

Something hummed, and light lit the rocks around Pan. The runes, inscribed in light, looked rough and uneven over the stony surface, but Pan knew they were perfect. They painted a pattern around the space she sat. Those symbols hummed and glowed, and the rocks opened up below Pan. She fell into a portal and dumped out onto the canyon floor.

Pan rolled once and lay in a heap. She shook hair out of her eyes and looked up at the Visitor.

The Visitor towered. The cloak was gone. The Visitor wore a short dress of flowers, banded by a branch at the waist. Butterflies fluttered their wings atop select blooms. Tentacles topped the visitor’s head, an abundance, like the branches of a Dipinta tree. Tentacles streamed from the woman’s hips, taking the place of legs. The lower tentacles curled and waved and supported the Visitor, also in abundance, like the roots of a dipinta tree. Perfect pointed ovals served as eyes. They had little expression. The eyeballs rolled, until they got Pan in their sights.

Pan had never felt so judged.

At that moment, she realized she had not seen one of these things as a ghost. She’d seen only a vague impression of one.

Pan rolled away and pushed to her feet.

Another arcane circle appeared. This one hummed on a wall, emitting a glow two stories high.

“This is my favorite.” The Visitor gestured to the circle. “I suppose you’ve met someone with this circle before.”

The circle burst, and hundreds of light creatures jumped from its center. A stampede of things with paws and hooves aimed for Pan. Birds shot out.

Pan squinted. She threw up her hand and blocked her view of the light. Then, she traced her portal and caught most of the creatures. The rest dodged around, missed Pan, and crashed on the cliff face behind. They shattered into sparks.

“You are much too fast.” The Visitor clenched her fist and held it against her breast. “You may hold the circles, but I know them. Better than most.”

“Oh, shut up,” Pan said.

The Visitor cast another of the arcane circles. She raised her hand and pointed at the sky. A circle showed symbols against a view of clouds.

Pan glanced up, stretching her neck to see it all. The circle created a dark space in its center. It drew Pan’s eyes, so she looked away. Then, the circle drew her hair up. Inky strands danced in its call. Pan’s clothes started to answer, and she felt her pictures flutter, like soft wings against her skin. Pan portaled out from under the black disc.

She blinked fast, turned, and got the Visitor back in her sights.

Pan scooped a boulder and threw it where the Visitor stood. A quick circle glimmered, and the rock flew out of sight. It didn’t hit the Visitor. Pan hadn’t expected it would, but she did expect to see where it landed. Instead, it just wasn’t there.

The sun’s light faded. Pan looked up to see her rock, hurtling out of yet another portal, blocking the sun. On its surface, Pan saw the dark spell. Again, it drew her eyes.

Pan stared down. She didn’t dare search the horizon for a place to portal. She feared she would find that dark disc somewhere else. She raised her hands and caught the rock. It floated just above her. As Pan held it off her person, she struggled to catch her breath. The Visitor had found an effective spell. It blinded Pan to her surroundings, and Pan needed to see.

A quick glance across the canyon, and Pan portaled to the other side. She landed in an open space and stayed on her knees. The boulder crashed into the place she had been. It shook the ground.

A moment later, light filled the canyon. Arcane circles traced their symbols on the cliff-tops and the dead riverbed below. They painted every surface within Pan’s reach.

One symbol of light danced over Pan’s hand. It felt a little like a new arcane power, flowing and warm. She let her hand linger but only for a moment. Pan crawled away from the circles edge.

Before she got a safe distance, the circles hummed and exploded. Fire disgorged from their centers. Hundreds of fires reached for the sky. Sparks and wind dragged Pan’s hair skywards. Heat from all directions touched her face. The pictures that Pan used to reach her other battlegrounds blew away. Most drifted into the fires, curling and sparking fast.

Pan tried to snatch one from the air. She pulled with her telekinesis and caught it. She’d grabbed the canyon location. The only image she’d rescued was for the place she already found herself. Pan tossed the picture into the fire.

She searched her surroundings, but columns of fire touched everything. They began to grow, and heat crept closer.

Pan looked up. She saw a shuttle weaving among the columns. It turned away. Pan’s eyes widened. She recognized it as Aria’s shuttle. Pan tried to remember the interior. Who said she needed a picture?

She closed her eyes and got a fuzzy view. Seats, a couple crates, Alban, and Aria completed the picture. Pan drew her portal. Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked fast and saw that it went somewhere. She slid inside, just inches ahead of the fire.

Aria jumped. Pan suddenly appeared on their shuttle. Aria’s reaper friend crawled on the floor and grabbed the pant of Alban’s leg.

Soot covered Pan’s face, and a subdued aura of grey-blue puddled around her, leaving its own kind of soot.

Alban jumped. His aura rippled with surprise. He looked down at Pan, who still clung to his leg.

“Go back,” Alban ordered to the pilot. “Away from the fire. We can’t get through that.”

“I have to fight a Visitor.” Pan pointed off the shuttle, thinking she pointed towards the canyon and the monster.

She probably did. Aria couldn’t know as she couldn’t see out the windshield.

Aria knelt and put a hand on Pan’s shoulder. “We know. Sotir has been running scenarios. But…things are still foggy. He can’t see you specifically. Just us and the Visitor.”

Pan’s eyes went wide. “Die, get dragged into the underworld, or a big change.”

Aria frowned. Her frown threatened to be something more. “Sotir is betting on die. We’ve called for help from Scaldigir. We need to leave.”

A flurry of yellow passed over Pan’s aura. “Not before we kill that thing. We can’t leave a Visitor out here. She tricked me. She knew this would happen.” Pan’s eyes narrowed. Red began to trickle into her person.

Aria touched Pan’s hand. “How’d she trick you?”

Pan pushed to her knees, and then, she stood. “I lost my pictures, but I don’t want them back. I need a weapon with suppressant.”

Alban shook his head. “We’re leaving. We’ll be away from the canyon soon enough.”

The shuttle jerked. A hit. Then, Aria’s stomach dropped. It felt like the shuttle took a dip. Aria grabbed the wall.

“So much for leaving.” Pan knelt and placed her hands on the floor. White glowed around her silhouette. “I’ll land you guys, but then, you’ll have to get out of here. And, for Mother Tree’s sake, give me a weapon.”

The Visitor had taken down the shuttle. Aria wondered what Sotir now saw. Had Aria joined Pan in a kind of fortune telling oblivion?

Alban lowered himself to the ground and braced for the crash. “We’re going to lose this fight. We should have just led Era back to Scaldigir. Consequences be damned.”

A jolt rocked the shuttle, and everything stopped. Aria’s stomach settled back into its normal position. The jolt amounted to nothing more than a hard landing.

Aria caught her breath. She bathed in a miasma of fear. Yellow pooled on the shuttle’s floor. Some came from Alban. A lot came from the pilots and two officers. Pan put out a good deal of her own fear. None of it really surprised Aria, except her own aura. It pumped yellow like river rapids, so unlike Aria’s steady blue.

“Alright.” Alban leaned in to Pan. “What do you need to kill her?”

“Suppressant,” Pan said.

“Suppressant? We’re way past that. Just kill the thing.” Alban ruffled through his shirt. He handed Pan more pictures.

“I need a weapon with suppressant,” Pan said.

“I know! But, take these. They’re still useful.” Alban’s aura seemed to shove the pictures at Pan.

Pan snatched the pictures. “I have to go, or you’re going to see arcane circles in action for yourselves.”

“Take this as well.” Alban held out a thin tube to Pan – a sheathed weapon. Alban’s blue-red aura fell in echoes around the blade. “I didn’t want to give you this thing since you could probably kill us all with a single telekinetic sweep, but you need it now.” Alban pulled it open. A rapier thin blade came into view, short and flexible. He closed the weapon and handed it to Pan. “I’ve treated it with suppressant, but I doubt it’ll work. I’m only telling you so that you don’t cut yourself by accident. And – it’s very sharp.”

Pan nodded and took the cylinder with care. She tucked it into her boot. Her aura went grey and dim.

Alban’s aura swam with colors of distrust and regret. “Go.”

Aria watched Pan draw a portal, and then, both Pan and portal were gone.

Aria couldn’t believe Pan would try to kill the thing. The last she saw of Pan’s aura had been blue, yellow, gold, and a little red. Aria thought the red might have a role to play as it lent its shade to Pan’s determination.

Pan portaled away from the shuttle. In little leaps, she traversed the wall of the canyon. She headed back to the place she’d left the Visitor - the valley - but first, she had to reach the edge and peer below. The fire had gone, but the memory of heat hung in the air. Pan grew warmer the closer she moved to the edge. A moment later, Pan spotted the Visitor, standing at the top of the cliff, looking forlorn.

Pan let her last portal fall. She scooped up rocks and ran. She pulled the rocks into her storm and swirled them around and above her head.

Arcane circles. They had their purposes. Dipinta trees. They had their symbolism. Sotir was right. Everything that had been Scaldin before the Visitors was gone. The Scaldin might be more Visitor now than anything.

No. We are not. We’re different.

“I thought you ran away,” the Visitor called.

Pan stopped short. Her storm of rock and dust swirled. She kept the items moving. They made little noise, but they fogged the air, with particles of soil. The Visitor stood nearby. They both perched atop the cliff, no longer in the bowels of the canyon. Flat land and sky stretched for miles.

“I did run away,” Pan said. “You don’t fight fair.”

The Visitor gestured to Pan’s cloud of telekinesis. “This is not a fight. This is euthanasia. Any Volanter would understand that the research is of the utmost importance. You hinder it.” An arcane circle appeared around Pan.

Pan growled and drew two portals. One nested inside the other. The smaller circled Pan and would take her to safety. The larger gathered Pan’s storm of rocks, as they dropped around and past her. They fell on the visitor.

Pan fell from much higher.

As Pan fell, she kept her storm in motion. She pushed the rocks in a circle, spiraling. The Visitor raised tentacles and long-fingered hands to block the debris. A new arcane circle surrounded the Visitor, and a bubble protected her from harm.

The rocks slipped plopped the ground, lifeless.

Pan drew a new portal in her path. She fell out of sight. She let the portal linger a moment too long, and the Visitor slithered after.

Pan rolled into the cold. She’d sloppily portaled herself into the sky. She made a landing via telekinetic levitation.

Pan brushed snow from her pants, desperate to keep her clothes dry and warm. Alban’s extra pictures occupied one boot offering extra insulation, not much, but Pan would take anything. Her other boot held Alban’s secret sword.

Pan searched the snow for the Visitor, but all she saw was white. She knew the Visitor had followed or attempted to follow. Pan also looked for Era. She’d left the Soffigen tattle in the cold but didn’t see her. Pan spotted the ship, far off, on the horizon. Maybe, the Visitor had kindly moved Era to a place of warmth, where Era could rest and heal. After all, Era was a Volanter – a worthy one.

Pan heard the hum, the music of the circles. She burrowed into a snowdrift. She felt like a polar animal. Her telekinesis gave the illusion that she had the physical equipment, the claws and paws, for such an endeavor. Snow flew to the side of her, and a hollow formed. Pan slipped in and pulled some snow after.

Once ensconced, Pan waited and listened. The arcane hum faded. Pan pulled the suppressant sword from her boot and held it tight. Then, Pan drew a curved portal. She popped the center up and shaped it like a shield. Snow threatened to fall inside, breaking in clumps, but Pan held the snow off to keep her hiding place concealed. If the Visitor led with a spell of fire or some other deadly element, it would melt the snow and go into the portal. Unless it came up from under Pan, then it would cook Pan and steam away the snow. But, Pan thought she could move the portal fast enough. She was faster than the Visitor.

“That other girl thinks the Soffigen are special now, just because I chose to work with them. I’m certain you thought Scaldigir was special. That we chose you.” The Visitor’s voice came muffled. “But, it was more your ancestors’ desperation to be part of our learning. Nothing about Scaldigir is special. You have your brand of circle magic, and others have theirs.”

Silence followed. Pan didn’t know what to say to that.

“Where are you?” The Visitor asked. The hum of a circle followed.

Pan waited. She prayed for the Visitor to come close. She wanted the Visitor to tear her from the snow, with her own two hands – or tentacles, however many the Visitor had. Pan would give the Visitor a dose of the suppressant and maybe a deadly cut. Pan held the little sword tight.

As Pan shivered under the snow, she felt a tickle. Her snowdrift exploded, and Pan found her portal dispelled. She flew out of the snow to the sight of the Visitor and grabbing tentacles.

Pan tried to unsheath the sword, but she pulled on the scabbard askance. The blade got caught. Her pictures fluttered out of her boot, not so secure after all.

Okay, I’m getting out of here.

With her surprise ruined, Pan caught sight of the beach picture, as it landed soft on the snow. With her eyes, Pan drew the portal, wriggled free of tentacles, and fell into the sky above the beach. Again, the Visitor slithered after, even faster this time. Her tentacles tumbled free of the portal’s confines, and the Visitor focused on Pan, inches behind, until the whipping wind drew them apart.

Again, Pan drifted through air alone. This time, she fell towards the sea. Wind roared in her ears, and though it wasn’t silent, it might as well have been. Pan could hear nothing but the deep whistle of her fall.

The sword glinted in the light, far off, having slipped from her grasp. It headed somewhere into the rocks at the beach’s edge. Pan pulled telekinetically but couldn’t get a good hold.

The Visitor cast an arcane circle and floated gently, surrounded by the ring. She headed for the sand and seemed to bask in the warmth.

A small shuttle flew in the distance, getting bigger by the moment.

Oh, no, Pan thought. Who’s that?

Water swallowed Pan. She drifted inside, marveling at how warm it felt to finally be out of the wind and snow. Even the sea felt warm. Pan kicked for the surface. She had no pictures. She had no weapon. And, she had no strategy.

“I blew it.”

Pan knew she should time message, but a stubborn part of her refused. What would be the point? To where would she send herself to escape this whole thing?

Of course, she could go back and try to hold tighter to the sword, but something worse might happen. She could go back and leave the snow immediately, portal on. Again, she didn’t know how the Visitor would respond to that. The Visitor could do anything. Pan could go back and not shoot Era with the suppressant. Pan would have the gun instead of the sword. That might actually help.

But…I just can’t do this anymore. I’ll get it done, and that will be that.

I killed Brynn, and some comeuppance is waiting for me. Brynn has made sure of it. She doesn’t have a prize for me. She tricked me into this.

Whatever happens now. No do-overs. I’ll finish it without. If I die, I die. It’s better than seeing Brynn’s ghost forever.

Far off, a boom sounded on the beach.

Pan tread water and tried to look for the Visitor. Waves splashed over her view, rudely coursing through Pan’s path. Still, Pan glimpsed sand. There she saw the Visitor…and shuttles. Shuttles flew in rings, and streaks of light popped from their canons to the Visitor.

Pan put a hand over her mouth. Those shuttles had to belong to Irini and Sotir. Pan’s future might be in flux, but she wouldn’t sacrifice Irini and Sotir for it. It was a pity Sotir would.

Pan swam for the shore. Water lapped at her chin, and Pan swallowed some. She wasn’t a great swimmer. She drew a portal and swam into it, cutting her trip by a hundred strokes.

Irini’s shuttle headed for the beach. She knew she’d find Pan there.

Irini’s com beeped. Sotir’s voice came over the speaker. “Irini. I need you to do me a favor. Go to the rocks on the beach’s edge. Find a weapon there and bring it to Pan. She needs it.”

“Uh, okay. I can do that.” She glanced at the pilots.

They nodded their agreement.

“What are you going to do?” Irini asked.

“I’m staying with my shuttle. I have to keep an eye on the battle. We’re going to attack the Volanter. In the meantime, I’m calling for help again. Oh, and Alban and Aria are stranded. I can’t help them right now,” Sotir said.

“What about Pan?”

“She’s at the beach. Well, she’s headed for the water.” Sotir sighed. “Get the weapon. She hasn’t dropped it yet, but she will by the time you get there. She needs it.”

“Okay.” Irini didn’t need to wait long.

The shuttle arrived at the beach, and the pilots headed for the rocks. Irini watched out the windshield. She took a deep breath and asked her golden thread where she could find the weapon that Pan needed.

The thread sparkled into being and zoomed from its place twined around Irini’s finger, out the forward view to the rocks below. The shuttle landed, and Irini ran out. The shuttle didn’t stay. It picked up, sending sand in all directions. Then, it raced for the Visitor to engage her in battle.

Irini picked her way over rocks. The farther out she walked, the more she struggled to keep her balance. The rocks were slick under her feet, and waves crashed ahead, making the problem worse. Irini got low and practically crawled. The stone felt wet beneath her hands, and the pants over her knees soaked up moisture. Ahead, the thread glittered; it beckoned her on.

Pan stepped on to the beach. She’d brought that shark she wanted. It floated in a small tube of water – Pan’s first success at liquid levitation. Pan flung the beast at the Visitor. She estimated the shark was fifteen feet long, with mouth open wide.

Arcane circles caught the shuttle’s attacks and trapped the laser light. Bits of sand and glass floated inside too. The Visitor had the shuttles outmatched, but the Visitor didn’t plan for the shark. Its jaws grabbed her around the waist, and the Visitor cried out.

She fell to the sand and tried to work her way out of the shark’s teeth. The shark held tight. If it must die in the Pan’s toxic, dry environment, then it must get one last taste.

An arcane circle appeared around the shark’s neck. It hummed brief, and the shark’s mouth froze. It’s tail still thrashed.

The Visitor shuddered. One of her tentacles lay shredded. Others showed cuts and bite marks. Blood oozed from those wounds and into the sand.

A shuttle shot at the Visitor.

The laser deflected, bouncing off a sputtering shield of energy.

A new arcane circle hovered in the air. The circle’s song finished in a crash of bells. A beast clawed its way out. The thing had the head of snake and the hands of a gargoyle. The shuttles turned and fled. The beast chased.

“Oh, Sotir.” Pan stared after his small vessel.

The Visitor pushed the now still shark aside. She rose on her tentacles, only the uninjured ones. Her shield spell faded gradually. The Visitor breathed hard and clutched at her flank. “I should have had a longer sleep.”

Pan got ready. She could see inside the Visitor, too tender flesh, red and pulsing, bits that Pan could pull with telekinesis.

Pan got no chance.

An arcane circle surrounded Pan. She portaled away, right into the arms of another circle. This one hurt. Pan watched as blood stained the sand around her. Then, she fell to her knees.

“You’re a nuisance indeed.” The Visitor slithered across the sand. “I thought this circle would remove enough of your blood to kill you. It would seem not. The spell fell short.” The Visitor sighed. Her tentacles pulled her forward. Shorter tentacles dangled, twisting, peeking through the forest of roots.

Arcane circles wrapped her tentacles and healed them. The hum was weak but good enough to stem the flow of blood. The newly healed tentacles snaked around Pan and held her in place. Pan wasn’t going anywhere; not that she could, feeling so weak. As far as Pan could tell, she had no wounds, but her blood colored the sand.

“I don’t want to make you suffer. I am trying to be quick and humane.” The Visitor began to squeeze.

Pan drew one final good breath and held on to it.

Brynn hovered in Pan’s peripheral vision. “Alright. Time to talk to her. Say what I say. It isn’t my fault.”

Pan shot a look of contempt at Brynn, but she copied. “Don’t squeeze the life out of me yet.” Pan gasped. “I can’t do anything more. Just let me talk…It isn’t my fault that I’m aberrant.”

“No, it’s not. But, I can’t leave you like this,” said the Visitor – no Volanter. This thing was not a nice guest. It was something else.

Brynn spoke again. “Aren’t you longing for home? I’m the only person powerful enough to help you return to the clans.”

Pan repeated the words exactly. She frowned. She watched the tentacles relax around her and quickly sucked in some air. “…Well, do you? Want to go home? You can’t do that with someone who’s bound.”

“Oh, that’s a bit…brazen,” the Volanter said, wide-eyed. “But, you’re right. How do I get home? You think you can help?” She put a long-fingered hand over her mouth and studied Pan. “Do you know the way?”

Brynn’s voice, so alive, whispered, “I know the way.”

Pan looked to Brynn. With reluctance, she also whispered, “I know the way.”

The Volanter grabbed Pan’s face and turned it. “Did you say you know the way to the clan home?” The Volanter’s eyes darted away from Pan’s face. The Volanter stared past her. Slowly, she smiled. “Oh, the clan home. I could see my mother again.”

Pan looked into the Volanters eyes and suddenly felt they looked familiar. She could place the look. She’d seen it in many faces aboard the Last Cruise. This Volanter was old, and she wasn’t thinking like she used to, especially if she thought her mother would be waiting for her at the clan home – wherever that was.

“You might want to get back into that chamber.” Pan swallowed hard. “I don’t think you’re well.”

Brynn floated near to the Volanter. She held up her hand and covered her smiling mouth. Into the Volanter’s hole of an ear, Brynn said, “She needs all the circles to get you home. Unbind her. Quick!”

Pan drew a sharp breath. “What?”

The Volanter’s eyes widened. “Right. I need to unbind you.” The Volanter dropped Pan.

Pan slumped to the sand, and an arcane circle streamed around her. The symbols wrote themselves in sequence, very slow.

“Oh, no.” Pan’s eyes felt heavy. They drifted shut, but she forced them open. “Wait, I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to look like you.” Pan could barely muster the energy to panic. She couldn’t muster the energy to speak loud enough to be heard over the sound of the circle. The last strong word she uttered was, “Brynn!”

Light blinded Pan’s view. A sensation like water rushing from her nails graced Pan’s hands and feet. She tried to compose and send a time message, but she felt only a glimmer of that energy. It flowed out of her.

Pan waited for the change to happen. It didn’t occur. She didn’t grow tentacles. She just felt her powers and arcanehood draining away.

“That’s unbound.” The Volanter nodded. “You’re right. This suits you better. Now, the three of us can leave together and…”

Pan lifted her head and glimpsed the bouncy white curls of Irini. They bobbed over the scenery.

Pan shifted her eyes back to the Volanter. “I don’t know if I like this. Did you do the same to Era?”

The Volanter frowned. “Who’s Era?”

“That other girl,” Pan reminded her. “The blue and green one.”

The Volanter took a long moment. “Oh, Era. I left Era on the ship.”

“What did you do about her circles?”

The Volanter’s frown deepened. “I’ll certainly unbind her if I haven’t already. Now, are you ready to go?”

“Mother Tree. No.” Pan twisted her head in the sand and felt grains run through her hair to her scalp.

Irini slithered over the landscape. She had Alban’s little venomous sword in hand. The Volanter began to turn away.

Pan propped herself up, on weak arms. “Where exactly is home for you?”

The Volanter turned back. “I thought you knew. You said you knew.”

“A little ghost fooled you,” Pan whispered.

Irini hovered behind the Volanter, dangerously close. Her mouth was a little ‘O,’ and she held the sword unsheathed. Her hands shook. She shouldn’t have to do it.

“A ghost?” The Volanter’s eyes widened. The Volanter raised her hand. More understanding seemed to come into her eyes. The sound of a circle came on the wind, weak and faltering.

With the Volanter calling upon the circle of ghost sight – at least, Pan guessed it was the circle of ghost sight – Pan used the last of her fading telekinesis to pull the sword out of Irini’s hands and into the Volanter’s back. Pan’s aim was sloppy, but she found a mark.

The Volanter stiffened and made a little sound. Her tentacles crumpled beneath her. Her circle of ghost sight died.

Irini stood behind the Volanter, eyes wide. She backed away.

Blood oozed onto the sand, but probably not enough to kill the Volanter. Arcane circles tried to exist. Their light formed weakly, but the hum of the magic died before anything came into being.

“She’s not dead. Do I have to…kill her?” Irini asked.

Pan shook her head. “No, but I hope the others get here before she regains her powers.”

Pan closed her eyes. That feeling of water, rushing out her limbs, continued. Pan wondered how long it would go on.