“Er, which war is that?” Kemp said quickly, noticing the rising heat in Nikha’s glare.

“Why, the war, of course.” Felix was taken aback. “The same one that’s been going on since…well, you know what I mean. I expect the historians will come up with a fine name for it one day, but for now it’s just…the war,” he said with a shrug.

“But who are you fighting against?” asked Kemp with a wince. They weren’t doing a good job of blending in.

Felix smiled again, wry this time. “Whoever I am paid to. Such is a mercenary’s lot. There are enough sides now I don’t think anyone can keep track. The steppe boyars fight each other, but they come together to fight the mountain clans. The clans and the steppemen both come together to fight the westerners, when required, and then they’ll join the westerners whenever the Morvatians grow too bold…as I said, it’s quite messy. I don’t envy the household troops. They’ve got to keep track of who serves who. I need only look for the fattest purse.” He laughed, a mirthless little chuckle.

“It sounds difficult.” Nikha watched him through narrowed eyes. Her father had served with mercenaries during the Kobrolian Emergency, and the few times he’d mentioned them it had been with much scorn.

“I could have it worse.” Felix shrugged. “At least soldiers are fed. Though I don’t know how much longer that will be true. It’s nearly autumn, and so many fields lie fallow…” He trailed off, looking off into the distance. “But I am being morbid. My apologies. Now, I’m afraid I’m curious: what brings two children to travel across the steppe alone? These are dangerous times, and most of those abroad are dangerous men. Your home could truly spare no one to escort you to your uncle?”

Nikha squeezed the stock of her rifle. “We can take care of ourselves.”

“I don’t mean to imply otherwise.” He held up his hands defensively. “Still, though. Be careful. Last I heard, there were Maghtal nomads roaming about near the lake. Like as not to fill you with arrows as ignore you.”

“You said you’re headed west, then?” asked Nikha as she shifted around on her pack. She was thinking it was about time to get going, but the ache in her legs thought differently.

Felix gave a rueful nod. “Opportunities for employment are thin on the ground, as of late. People are too hungry to fight. Things aren’t quite so bad across the Amzh, or so I’ve heard. I’m only waiting for Karel, and then we’ll be off.”

“That’s your friend?” Kemp said.

“That’s right. He ought to be showing up soon, in fact. Said he’d be back by dusk.”

“Dusk…” Kemp whispered. His eyes grew distant, then shot wide open. “Nikha!” he hissed, leaning close to her.

“What is it?” she whispered back. She glanced up at Felix, who was watching them with bemusement but making no effort to eavesdrop.

“Dusk, he says.” Kemp’s face was nervous, intense. “But it was sunset when we got here, wasn’t it? And we’ve been walking for hours!”

Realization dawned as Nikha looked up at the sun. It hadn’t moved at all, still casting that rich orange light at a low angle across the grass. “It’s wrong,” she whispered. “It’s all wrong. We have to go.”

“Should…should we say anything to him?”

Nikha grimaced. “We don’t know how any of this works. Maybe he won’t be able to follow us. Maybe it’s us being here that’s messed things up. And do you think he’d even believe us?”

Kemp looked fraught a moment, then sighed. “We appreciate the hospitality, Felix, but we better get going.”

He was taken aback. “Are you sure? It will be dark soon. I give you my word, Karel and I will do you no harm-“

“We believe you,” said Nikha. “But we want to make good time. Our, um, uncle is expecting us.”

Felix looked ready to make another protest, but then inclined his head. “As you say. Stay safe in your travels, Kemp Arkadievich and Nikha Lyizevna.”

“We’ll do our best,” said Kemp as he stood. “You be safe too. And Felix?”

“Yes?”

“Um…if your friend doesn’t make it, think about going north instead. Or even if he does make it. Just a suggestion.”

The young mercenary looked confused, but gave a slow nod. “I will take it under consideration. Good luck, and Hieromartyrs guard you.”

“And you.”

“And you.”

They gave the traditional response and resumed their trip, ascending the northern side of the valley. Nikha couldn’t help looking back when they reached the crest. Felix’s fire was a distant, fitful spark now, and the man himself an indistinct shadow, tiny and alone. The light hadn’t changed at all. She swallowed, muttered a prayer for him and turned around as Kemp re-checked the pathfinder and led them on.

The earth grew hillier here, undulating over ancient moraines like lines raked into the earth. Nikha’s legs ached going uphill, her ankles going downhill. They walked for another hour in silence, though again she had the sense that they weren’t really moving. The silence remained, echoing, like the world’s largest empty room. By silent agreement they paused on top of a particularly steep ridge, breathing heavily.

Kemp took a drink from his canteen and looked to the horizon. “It’s like it’s dead,” he said suddenly.

“What is?”

“This.” He waved a hand across the landscape. “The world. This world. It’s like-“

“Like the clock’s run down, but no one’s realized it’s not ticking,” Nikha finished.

“Yeah. Exactly.” He pulled the pathfinder from his belt and fiddled with it. “Oh! Look, it’s pointing a different way now.” Nikha looked over his shoulder and saw that the needle had swung to due east.

Nikha sighed with relief. “Good. No more ups and downs. But why would it suddenly change like that? Wouldn’t it have just pointed us that way in the first place?” How frustrating.

“I don’t think it works like a normal compass. You’re not making one of these with a needle and a cork.”

“True,” she huffed. “But it still annoys me. Hopefully we’re almost through with this place.” She shook her head and they got walking, their shadows stretching out far in front of them. In perhaps a quarter of an hour, they spotted what might be their destination: a great jagged boulder sticking out of the ridge’s top, carried down from the mountains by some long-melted glacier. At first Nikha thought it only a few feet high, but when it didn’t seem to get any closer after a few minutes of walking she realized it was truly massive. When they finally reached it, its sharp, black tip was a full twenty feet above their heads. They gaped up at it for a few moments, then Kemp checked the pathfinder.

“It’s pointing us right at it. Are we supposed to go in there?” He pointed to a narrow crack in the boulder’s base that Nikha hadn’t noticed.

She frowned at it, not relishing the idea of going inside. “Maybe we’re supposed to go past it? Try going around to the other side. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

“Of course, madam,” came the grave reply. She rolled her eyes as Kemp made a circuit of the rock. “I think we’ve got to go in. It points at the rock no matter where I stand.”

“Lovely,” Nikha muttered. “More tunnels. And I was just starting to miss them.” Neither questioned the fact that the crack in the rock couldn’t possibly have led anywhere. Their definition of ’possible’ had already grown vague.

“I’ll go in first, then,” said Kemp as he undid his belt of kit.

“No! No, I can do it.” Nikha hurried over to the split in the rock.”

“Nikha, I’m smaller and I’ve got the shorter gun.”

She frowned, of course, and glanced off to the side. “Fine. But I’ll be right behind you.” She unbuckled her ammo belt so it didn’t catch on the walls and gathered it up, along with Kemp’s.

“Thank you, Nikha! Now let’s see what we’ve got.” He had to turn sideways to squeeze into the narrow opening, pistol held in his leading hand. “Oof! Tight in here.” He inched farther in, his voice quickly going echoey. “Real narrow here, but I think I can…”

Nikha squinted into the crack, but already couldn’t see him. “Damn it!” She realized she ought to have given him the lantern. Hurriedly she opened up her pack and got it lit. “Kemp!” she shouted into the cave, “do you need a light?”

“No, actually! You should come in here and see this!” He didn’t sound worried at all. Nikha followed him with only a little bit of grumbling. Her movement was necessarily awkward, with her rifle in one hand and her pack and the belts in the other. She got to the constriction Kemp mentioned, so narrow she had to fully exhale to squeeze by. Past there it quickly opened up. Just when the light from the entrance was running out, she rounded a slight bend and found Kemp standing in an oddly-lit little cavern.

The cave was small, roughly in the shape of a cone. Behind Kemp she saw what looked like crudely cut stairs ascending to an opening near the tip of the roof. The light was a pale golden color, dim but more than enough to see by. It seemed to come from a few glowing pools on the flattish floor.

Nikha just shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask.” She crouched to look at the nearest pool. It seemed to be full of clear water, a few inches deep-but the water gave off a sickly gold radiance.

Kemp walked over and squatted next to her. “It’s a lot like this stuff, isn’t it?” He tapped the glass cylinder on the pathfinder, full of that strange gold phlogiston.

“It is…” Nikha thought about it. Did that mean Papa had been here too? Or read about this place, at least? Maybe the color was just a coincidence. “But I’ve no idea what to do with that information,” she finished. “I do detest feeling so out of my depth.”

“At least I’m not alone there.” Kemp gave her a small smile. “I didn’t find anything but the stairs in here, unless you wanted to take some of that stuff along.”

She considered it. A jar of it would look quite pretty on the shelf in her room…but then again she had no idea what it was. “No. Who knows if it will make us sick or something.”

“Good idea. Up the stairs then?” She nodded, and Kemp again took the lead. Nikha scowled a little at his back, but managed to keep her comments to herself. The stairs were rough and narrow, almost a ladder. After a short climb they reached the opening high on the wall, which was short enough they had to crouch to get through. It led into a low tunnel which twisted off into darkness.

“Give me a moment, Kemp.” Nikha fumbled the lantern back out of her pack and cracked the valve. The phlogiston arc lit with a sizzling hiss, revealing an impressed look on Kemp’s face. She handed it to him and he led the way down the tunnel. The ceiling was low, but didn’t get any lower. They walked a much longer distance than the rock could possibly have held, but that was nothing new. After several twists and turns, Nikha stumbled over something. After cursing and checking her stubbed toe, she saw what it was. “Kemp, look!”

“It’s a brick.”

“Yes, which means we must be close to…something, at least!”

She was right. Only a minute or two later they emerged through the collapsed wall of a small cellar, which seemed to contain nothing but dust and cobwebs-and a flight of stairs. Nikha rushed over and climbed, heedless of they way they creaked beneath her boots. She yanked open the door at the top, allowing a beam of warm light into the basement. Kemp came up behind her as she slowly stepped through.

“This makes no sense. Absolutely no sense. I’m not going to complain, though.”

“This…this is your house?” he said, incredulous.