The villagers had been busy that day. A trench four feet and six wide ran along the narrowest side of the village, the one facing the forest. The dirt from that ditch was piled up on the side away from the forest, creating a makeshift berm or wall, with logs jammed in the backside of the wall for support and, I supposed, to give people a place to stand. Three logs laid side-by-side formed a ramp over the ditch, and Renica led me across it into the village. After we entered, a group of armed villagers pulled the logs back using ropes tied to the ends. I assumed that meant we were the last people to return to the village that day.

The tables of food for the afternoon meal still stood in the commons, and I went ahead and filled up a plate. My stomach was growling again, and I realized that I’d been almost constantly hungry since I’d entered this world. I couldn’t remember a time I’d really felt full, in fact. This new body needed a lot of calories, it seemed, which was probably why the villagers always had such large meals. If all omeni ate as much as I wanted to, I was shocked more of them weren’t dying from starvation.

As I sat down to eat, I looked around. The village seemed strangely empty and quiet. “Where is everyone?” I asked Renica.

“Sleeping,” she said. “Everyone will take a turn on the walls tonight, so they’re getting what rest they can now.” She took a bite of her own food. “Since neither of us got any rest, we’ll take the last shift. It’s the hardest because you don’t really get any sleep leading up to it, but…” She shrugged.

“Sounds fun,” I sighed.

“Loads.” She looked around. “Plus, they don’t really want to be here for what’s next.” She made a face. “I know I don’t, but…” She shrugged.

“You’re not going to give me any hints?” I asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

We ate in silence after that, with very few people walking past and none of them stopping to talk. In fact, as the minutes passed, and nightfall drew closer, the number of people lessened, rather than increased. I saw a few groups walking toward the outer wall carrying weapons, but otherwise, the village quickly fell still and silent.

A shadow fell over us, and I glanced up to see Serghei standing above us, his face grim. He wore a jacket of glossy, brown leather and carried a large axe, one with a wider and slightly thicker blade than my war axe, and his black hair was pulled tightly back.

“Renica,” he said. “The moon will rise soon.” She nodded, and the man turned to me. “Ionat, will you be joining us on our vigil?”

“I suppose so, although I’m not sure what exactly we’re doing,” I shrugged.

The militia leader looked sternly at Renica. “You didn’t tell him?” he said, a bit accusingly.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she gave the man a weak grin.

He shook his head. “That’s the sort of surprise that can lead to a man dying, Renica,” he scolded. He looked back at me. “Tonight, we’re standing vigil for Emilina.”

“Oh,” I said softly. “That’s fine. I’ll come.” I wolfed down the rest of my food and brushed my hands off on my clothing. I rose to my feet and followed Serghei, Renica walking at my side as we headed toward the commons in front of the Altar of the Sun.

When we arrived, we found Viora, Vasily, Tedor, and several armed villagers, all wearing extremely serious expressions. A shrouded figure lay on the ground; I assumed that was Emilina’s body. Vasily stood near the corpse’s head, and the others gathered around it, fingering their weapons. Tedor stood a bit back, his axe resting on his shoulder. I couldn’t help but frown. These people looked awfully ready to fight for being part of a vigil. I loosened my war axe and held it lightly. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be a night of simple remembrance.

Viora nodded to us as we approached. “Renica, Serghei,” she said. “Please take your accustomed places.” Serghei moved to stand at the corpse’s feet, while Renica stood off to the side, cocking her crossbow and tapping her side, summoning Vikarik to her. The atmosphere seethed with an undercurrent of both solemnity – which I understood – and violence, which I kind of hoped I was wrong about.

Viora turned to me. “Ionat, if you don’t mind, please stand behind me, before the entrance to the Altar of the Sun,” she said. I nodded and moved to block the passage into the altar. I guessed that she wanted me out of harm’s way – she still wanted to figure out how I’d turned the hungering, after all – and I was fine with that. This had the feeling of something bad, and if it was, I was cool letting the villagers handle it.

The sky above us was bright pink and orange when Viora finally stepped forward. “We gather to guard the passing of Emilina Groza, beloved of Borava, daughter of the Sun,” the woman spoke. “She fell into darkness, but she will not remain so. By our hands and our wills, she will pass into the light, free of the moon’s curse on this night.” She looked at Vasily, and the elder nodded.

“I withdraw the Moon’s Truce from you, Emilina Groza,” the old man said, his voice thick. “Until you walk beneath the Sun once more, let there be no shelter for you in this village nor safety for you within its bounds. This I declare by my authority as duly chosen Elder of Borava.”

“Let the Sun witness,” Viora spoke. I felt a pulse of power flash over the body in front of me; the elder’s words hadn’t been vain ones. Somehow, he’d performed a bit of magic; I’d suspected all along that the phrases “Moon’s Truce” and “Sun’s Peace” weren’t just greetings. This seemed to be evidence that I was right.

The priestess next looked at Tedor, who bowed his head. “I remember you as a child, Emilina Groza,” he said thickly. “You insisted on driving the lumber wagon, and you would sneak into the woods to watch us at work. Even then, you knew what role you wanted to play in the village, and as the years passed, your ardor never dimmed. I welcomed you into our team, our dwelling – and our hearts.” He took a deep breath. “I withdraw the Sun’s Peace from you,” he said in a shaking voice. “Until you walk beneath the Sun once more, let there be no place in this village for you, no place in our hearts.”

“Let the Sun witness,” Viora said again, but I frowned. This time, no pulse of power washed over the group. I didn’t know if that was normal, but from the look on Viora’s face, I guessed that it wasn’t. “Tedor,” the woman said in a gentle voice.

“I – I withdraw the Sun’s Peace from you,” the man repeated, his voice shuddering. “Let there be no place in this village…”

“Tooo laaate,” a voice hissed. Suddenly, the shroud surrounding the figure on the ground exploded, ripping to shreds as something tore its way free and rushed at Tedor. The thing reminded me of an insect, shiny and gray with thin, spindly limbs and long, sharp claws, but it stood and moved like a person. The big man swung his axe, but the creature grabbed the weapon in mid-swing, tearing it from his grip, and lashed out, gripping his throat with one hand.

I finally got a good look at the thing as it stood still for an instant. The parody of a person was ridiculously thin, nothing but ashen skin stretched over bones that looked too sharp and angular. It was nude and female, but its breasts hung on its chest like deflated balloons, and its body was utterly hairless except for a few long, black, greasy strands dangling from its scalp.

When the creature touched Tedor, the big man froze, his arms and legs curling up into a fetal position. It held him easily off the ground, though, and stared into his eyes.

“You loved me once, Tedor,” the thing hissed, its voice sounding like it came from the bottom of a well. “You told me in the darkness. Do you love me, still?”

Tedor’s mouth opened, but before he could utter a word, Renica’s crossbow thrummed. The gray-skinned monster screamed as a bolt appeared in its back, quivering in place. It reached back, its free arm twisting in a way that it shouldn’t have been able to do, and ripped the bolt free from its skin. That movement, though, seemed to trigger the others, and the falling night burst into a frenzy of activity.

Serghei roared as he swung his axe at the creature, while Vasily grabbed a spear and thrust at its back. The undead reacted with inhuman speed. It flung Tedor into the onrushing Serghei, sending both men tumbling to the ground, then spun to face Vasily, snatching at his weapon with a long-fingered hand. The old man slid the spear out of the way with fluid grace, though, and slipped the blade forward, thrusting swiftly at the creature. The monster dodged, but the darting spear slid along its shoulder, opening a shallow wound.

I moved forward to help, but Viora put a hand on my chest. “Please, hold this spot, Ionat,” she said grimly. “It must not enter the Altar of the Sun.” She turned back and began moving her hands in the gestures of a spell. I felt the power rising around her, swirling and gathering in a formation I didn’t recognize.

Vasily pressed his attack on the woman while two of the villagers charged in, one wielding a spear like the elder’s and another with a war axe like mine. Emilina dodged the first villager and grabbed the axe from the second, pulling them close and slamming a hand into their chest. Instantly, the man curled up as Tedor had, tumbling backwards, his muscles locked tight.

Viora clapped her hands, and a wave of energy rolled out from her, surrounding the undead. Emilina screeched in pain as the power surged against her, and wisps of smoke roiled from her skin as a few places blackened and charred on her. She slashed a hand out at the air, and the spell shattered, the broken shards rushing back and slamming into Viora. The Sorvaraji shuddered and took a step back, pressing her palms to her temples.

“You think I fear the Sun?” Emilina laughed, the sound utterly devoid of humor. “The moons are my shield, and I fear nothing!”

Renica’s bow thrummed again, but this time, Emilina slid to the side, allowing the bolt to slip past and clatter against the side of the altar building. Serghei scrambled to his feet, pushing the immobile Tedor off him, and charged into the fray, his axe swinging. Emilina ducked under the blow and lashed out at the big man, but Serghei swept his left arm up, catching the blow on the small shield there and sliding it overhead. He slashed again, and Emilina jumped back – right into Vasily’s spear.

“Tedor!” the thing cried, its voice suddenly perfectly matching Emilina’s while she lived, “help me! They’re trying to kill me!”

Tedor suddenly roared in fury as his body unlocked. He scrambled to his feet and charged at the nearest villagers, a man and a woman, sweeping his axe. The woman screamed as the axe blade sunk into her hip, and she fell onto the ground, gripping the bleeding wound with both hands. The other blocked Tedor’s first blow, the villager catching it on his spear, but the second blow struck the wooden haft and shattered it. Tedor slashed again, his eyes filled with rage as his axe cut across the other man’s stomach.

Serghei kept slashing at Emelina, but the undead creature danced aside from his blows, keeping out of Vasily’s reach as well. “Serghei, it’s me,” the thing said in Emelina’s voice. “Why are you trying to hurt me?”

“I know what you are, mooncursed,” Serghei growled.

“Don’t you remember that night we shared?” it asked. “In the fields below the village, with the moons shining above us? You said I was beautiful then.”

Serghei hesitated, and Vasily lunged forward, his blade piercing the undead’s back and making it scream. “Don’t listen to it, Serghei!” the old man said. “This thing isn’t Emilina!”

“But I am, Vasily,” the creature purred, pulling itself from his blade. “Don’t you know me? I’m the girl who once sat on your lap and listened to your stories. Do you remember?”

Vasily said nothing, but his spear lashed out at the thing again. Emelina laughed as she nimbly slipped the blow, her hand lashing out not at Vasily, but at Serghei’s extended axe. She grabbed the weapon just below the head and pulled with terrible strength, dragging him forward as step. Her other hand flashed out and grabbed his arm, and instantly, the limb stiffened and curled. Serghei cried out in pain as spasms wracked his body, and the thing pulled him to it, pressing his back against its chest. It wrapped an arm around him, then grabbed his hair with the other hand, jerking his head back to expose his throat.

Emilina spun so that Serghei’s body stood between it and Vasily, its teeth inches from the captive man’s bare throat. “What will you do, Vasily?” it hissed in laughter. “Will you kill Serghei to strike at me? Even if your spear lands, I’ll tear out his throat. There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Will you stand vigil over your prize student, as well?”

Renica’s crossbow hummed again, and Emilina screamed as a bolt buried itself in the thing’s shoulder. Tedor roared in rage and charged at Renica; Vikarik, her tame cairnik, thundered a bark in reply and rushed to intercept the lumberjack.

Vasily hesitated, and the thing edged toward the Altar of the Sun – and me. “Ionat,” it hissed. “You found me attractive, didn’t you? You don’t want to hurt me, do you? Stand aside, and let me pass. Please, Ionat?”

The creature’s voice roared in my thoughts, seeming to hammer at my mind with dreadful power. I could feel the words trying to worm their way into my brain, each syllable a rotting, brown strand of energy. I pushed them aside with a brief effort of will, though; the energy shuddered against my thoughts, then dissipated.

“I might have once,” I admitted. “You’re ugly as hell now, though.” I snatched the hatchet from its sheath and held it up, holding the image of it wrapped in the sun’s power firmly in my thoughts. I gathered energy to me and felt it flow up my arm, cool and soothing. I snapped my arm forward, and the axe flew through the air, gleaming cold silver as it spun.

Emilina screeched in pain as the blade slammed into the thing’s skull. The hatchet sank deep into the monster, and it released Serghei and staggered backward. Vasily lunged forward just as Viora straightened and snapped the words of a spell. Power flowed from the woman, not targeting the undead but wrapping around the old warrior’s spear. The blade burst into flame as it sank into Emilina’s chest. The thing opened its mouth to speak, but I stepped forward, swinging my war axe in a horizontal arc. Cool power flowed down the blade, and it glowed in the rising moonlight.

Emilina raised an arm to block, but the bone shattered with a loud snap when my axe haft struck it. The blade continued on, sinking into the creature’s neck and erupting from the other side in a spray of black ichor. Emilina’s head flew from its body, hitting the ground with a thump as the monster collapsed to its knees before falling onto its chest.

Viora staggered over to the body and knelt beside it. “Be free of the moons’ clutch, daughter of the sun,” she gasped, placing a hand on the woman’s body. “Walk beneath the Sun once more, and know the Sun’s Peace again.” Power boiled away from the corpse as a flood of sickly brown and deathly grey energies erupted from it, surging past Viora and rising into the evening sky. The body spasmed and shook, then stilled as the flood of energy dissipated.

“Vikarik, down!” Renica shouted, and I glanced over to see Tedor’s bleeding body slump to the ground. The big man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed, unconscious and pale. The cairnik growled but limped back toward its mistress, long lines along its flank testifying to the savagery of Tedor’s axe.

“Vasily, Ionat, bring Tedor into the Altar,” Viora instructed tiredly as she moved to the wounded villagers. “Renica, bring Emilina’s body inside, as well.”

“What of Serghei?” Vasily asked, moving to squat beside the militia leader’s still-convulsed form.

“The effects of the nightwalker’s touch are fleeting, as you know, Vasily. He’ll be fine within minutes. Sore, but fine.”

Vasily nodded and gestured for me to come with him. Together, we carried Tedor into the Altar of the Sun and laid him on the stone slab. Renica followed behind us, dragging Emilina’s wasted corpse, holding it beneath its arms with an expression of distaste.

“Where should I put her?” the hunter asked.

“Anywhere should be fine,” Vasily sighed. “The Sorvaraji just wants her out of the moons’ influence, I think.” He looked at the corpse. “Don’t forget the rest of her.”

Renica groaned but headed back out, returning in a moment holding Emelina’s withered skull by my hatchet that still protruded from it. She dropped the whole thing on the corpse’s chest with a look of disgust. “Now what?”

“Go fetch Petronela,” the elder instructed. “The Sorvaraji is drained and dealing with spell backlash. She’ll need help with the healing.” Renica nodded and ran out of the room, whistling for Vikarik as she did.

“What happened, Vasily?” I asked quietly, moving over to pull my hatchet free of Emilina’s skull. I wiped the blade clean on my pants, then slipped it into its sheath.

“Emilina became one of the mooncursed, as we knew she would,” the old man sighed.

“You weren’t expecting this, though,” I said firmly. “You weren’t prepared for this thing at all.”

“No, we weren’t,” he agreed. “Those who fall to the naptrav of the undying become unliving, creatures more powerful than their creators but not substantially so. Those who die from the teeth of the hungering become ravenous, again just a stronger form of their creators. This, though…” He shook his head.

“Viora called it a nightwalker, right?”

“Yes. Do you know of them?” I shook my head. “I’m not surprised. They’re rare and powerful creatures, creations of both death and bestial magic. Their words drain the will to fight them, and their touch paralyzes the body. They capture prey, then drain them of life over the course of a night. The victim becomes one of their kind, a weaker version in service to their master.”

I thought about his words. “Wait, if it’s a creation of two types of magic, then…”

“It shouldn’t have been possible,” he finished. “Typically, nightwalkers are created by powerful lomoraji and used as servants and bodyguards. The Sorvaraji can tell you more, but as I understand it, creating one requires a long ritual lasting many nights and needing both skill and power to complete. I’ve never heard of someone rising as one.”

“Nor have I, Elder of Borava,” Viora said tiredly as she walked into the altar. Her golden eyes had dark circles beneath them, and I could see the pain in them as she dealt with the lingering backlash of her spell.

“Are you well, Sorvaraji?” Vasily asked concernedly.

She waved a hand at him. “I’m fine. It was foolish of me to try and destroy that thing with magic alone. I should have remembered that nightwalkers are almost immune to magic. It caught me by surprise.”

“It caught us all by surprise,” Vasily said darkly, then hesitated. “Sorvaraji, the ritual – why didn’t Tedor’s words work? That thing was obviously still bonded to him.”

“Bonded to him?” I echoed quizzically.

Viora nodded. “Yes, Ionat. The Sun’s Peace binds us together, all omeni in Borava, as one, just as the Moon’s Truce shelters us from one another. Death doesn’t sever those bonds; neither does the descent into darkness. Elder Vasily withdrew the Moon’s Truce, allowing us to harm the nightwalker without risking the Sun’s displeasure, but Tedor was unable to withdraw the Sun’s Peace.

“As for why…” She shook her head. “There’s no way to know. Perhaps, as the creature said, it was too late. It rose faster than we expected, after all. Or perhaps Tedor didn’t truly wish to sever his bonds with Emilina. He loved her deeply, after all.”

“Why wait so long, then?” I asked. “Why not just burn the body, or sever its head before it can rise?”

“Typically, we would,” Vasily nodded. “The Sorvaraji would sanctify the body, and once it was cleansed, we would destroy it. However, this time, there wasn’t enough power in the altar for a sanctification ritual. Without one, Emilina would have risen no matter what we did. All manner of methods have been attempted to prevent it, from immersing the body in acid to burning it and sprinkling the ashes in the Depthless Sea. Only sanctification works.”

“And without sanctification, the bonds with the body must be manually withdrawn,” Viora added. “It can only be done at morning or twilight, times when the ascendancy of the moons and Sun change hands. Had Emilina risen as a nightwalker without the Moon’s Truce being severed from it…” She grimaced.

“We might have all died,” Vasily finished. “We didn’t, however.” He looked at me. “Once more thanks to you in great part, Ionat. As the Sorvaraji said, nightwalkers are highly resistant to magic, but they’re also very hard to injure. Somehow, your hatchet gave it a nearly fatal blow. How did that happen?”

I shrugged. There wasn’t much point to lying. Renica already knew, so it wouldn’t be long before the whole village did.

“It was a spell from your book, one that I spent the day working on,” I told Viora. “I managed to figure it out just before Renica and I returned to the village.”

The woman froze and stared at me, her eyes wide. “You – you cast a spell?” she whispered hoarsely. I nodded. “One that you worked out from my spell-book? But – how?”

“It just made sense to me,” I lied easily. “I saw the spell-form, and I just sort of understood what it meant. It’s the only one, though. I didn’t understand any of the others.”

“You – you simply understood it,” she said. “That – that is astounding!”

“And somewhat difficult to believe,” Vasily added dourly.

“Elder Vasily,” she said reprovingly.

“No, Sorvaraji, I will speak my mind in this. You’ve spent years trying to find and train an apprentice to follow you. You’ve never found anyone able to learn even a single spell, despite all your efforts.” He looked at me. “And now you simply ‘understand’ one? The same way you just ‘understood’ the war axe the other day?”

He shook his head. “You aren’t what you say you are, Ionat. I don’t know what you are, and I don’t believe you mean any harm to the village, but…” He took a deep breath.

“I withdraw the Sun’s Peace from you, Ionat,” he said formally.

“Vasily!” Viora gasped, her face pale, but the old man ignored her.

“I declare this by my authority as duly chosen Elder of Borava,” he continued, his eyes boring into mine. “Witness, Sorvaraji…”

“Vasily, this is a mistake,” she protested.

“Witness, as is your duty,” he said firmly.

“Very well,” she sighed. “Let the Sun witness.”

Instantly, a swirl of power rolled out from the man and wrapped around me. I shuddered as it touched me. The village suddenly felt dark and unfriendly, the people around me colder and distant. I could sense their animosity toward me, and I realized that I didn’t want to be here any more than they wanted me.

I blinked as I suddenly understood what I’d agreed to with that innocent-seeming greeting of “Sun’s Peace” days ago. I’d bonded myself to the people of the village, making them seem more important to me than they really were. That bond made me feel an affection for the place that suddenly vanished, a sense of belonging I no longer had. The people of Borava were strangers to me, nothing more. I didn’t want them to die or anything, but if they did, it wouldn’t matter much to me.

“Oh, that was a bad idea,” Sara said in a worried tone. “He’s really going to regret that.”

“What do you mean?”

“John, you turned the hungering, the village didn’t. I can still see the spell hanging around you, and they’re only being repelled by you. So long as you were bound to the village, it got that protection. Now that you aren’t…” Her voice broke off as the first shouts echoed from the night.

“Wait, so I can go out in the forest now, and the hungering won’t attack me?” I asked.

“They shouldn’t. The turning spell still protects you.”

That tied it. There was literally no reason for me to stay in this village. The fact was, I was in this world for a purpose, and that purpose wasn’t in Borava. I’d learned a bit about the world here, and I’d started the process of using this world’s magic. Now, it was time to leave. I couldn’t help but grin. In a way, Vasily had just done me a big favor by cutting me free.

“She’s right, Vasily,” I said aloud grimly. “That was a mistake. At least, it was for you and your village.”

The old man cocked his ear to the side and gave me a dark look. “The village is under attack!” he half-shouted. “What did you do?”

“Me? Nothing,” I laughed without humor. “This was all you. You gave up the protection from my turning – and any other protections I might have offered this village.”

“What?” Viora asked. “How?” Her eyes widened. “The bond…”

I nodded. “He broke it, so the village isn’t safe anymore.” I hefted the war axe to my shoulder and gave him a fierce glare, seeing the sudden understanding blossom in his eyes. “Good luck. I hope you don’t lose too many people tonight, but if you do…” I shrugged. “That’s on you.”

I stalked out past the man, into the night. Borava wasn’t my problem anymore. I had greater concerns, and suddenly, I really wanted to be done with this world and move on to the next.