"How? I mean, you disappear into the mountains one day and turn up twenty suns later able to take on a grakar or ten men armed with crossbows?"

They were walking ahead of the others, Tala leading the way through the knotted branches and gnarled roots of the trees with Rial right behind. She was steadily pushing the reddened leaves out of their way, cautious of any sudden movement. The flora within the forests could be at least as lethal as the fauna without, and attacked more insidiously.

At least, she had meant to be leading. By now she was fairly sure that even if she stopped dead Rial would be able to continue his way through the poisoned forest without hesitation.

That shouldn't be possible. It took years of experience before an expedition leader could confidently lead a group through any given part of the waste's forests. The paths were carefully developed and maintained by the inhabitants of the cities and the villages around it, the routes regularly checked for the most dangerous of thorns and nettles. A graze or cut from one of even the most common plants could quickly turn septic, but it was the grasping, tearing vines and brackens that would kill within hours. Those hid within and around the branches that crisscrossed the forests, and were the main reason no group of wanderers ever approached from these directions. People unfamiliar with the area were forced to make their way around to the wide openings north and south of the city.

And here was Rial, strolling through the blood red komorebi[1] as if through a forest from the children's stories Trian was so fond of telling. She felt the anger rise again.

"It wasn't ten men," said Rial.

His eyebrows raised in surprise at the growl that rattled her throat.

"How?" she hissed.

She turned back to the path ahead, forcing herself to cool off. It didn't do to be distracted when making your way through this vegetation.

"The wilds are a harsh teacher," said Rial as they paced on.

He wasn't even sweating. Tala ground her teeth together.

"I lived in the mountains alone for longer than I lived with people. You learn to move fast or you die quickly. Luckily, I had time to adjust. Things weren't always as bad as they are now," he continued.

"Alone? What about your 'friend'?" asked Tala, almost tripping on an exposed root.

Focus, she told herself.

"Ah..." Rial's steps froze and he stared into the air in front of him. "Well, I guess he was there too, but... Well, it's complicated. But I'm going to explain it all to you soon!"

Rial's final, hurriedly-spoken words were pleading, and when she turned to look at him his were eyes staring earnestly back. She could tell he wanted something, but what it was she couldn't begin to guess.

She tutted and turned away again. Why didn't he just tell her?

"Why did you come to the city?" she asked. Maybe she could get some answers if she tried this direction.

"There must be more like me," he said.

"Like you?"

"Able to survive in this world. I'm here to find them."

"You mean, people that run around with a sword instead of a real weapon?" Tala snapped.

"What? No," said Rial. It was the first time Tala had ever heard him sound annoyed. "No, it's got nothing to do with weapons, or strength, or... anything like that."

"Then what is it?"

Tala didn't let Rial see the tiny, pleased smile she allowed herself. It was the first time she had gotten to him. It was usually the other way around.

"I'm looking for people who can possibly, uh, coexist with the planet," he said.

Tala stopped and stared at him. Manorest was only a little further ahead, and she wanted this conversation finished before the others caught up.

"It's got to be possible. I can't, statistically, be the only one. Whatever it was that means the dead don't react to me as they do to others, whether it was through some stress I experienced as a child or because I have always been quite... separate... from people, there must be plenty of other people who encountered the same catalyst."

Tala stared suspiciously at him.

"You don't know why the dead don't attack you?" she asked.

"Not in the slightest! I have only theories, ideas that may one day prove to be correct, or incorrect."

"It's probably your... your scent, or something," said Tala, aware even as she said it that it was a weak idea.

"That's right!" Rial's smile startled her.

"It is?"

"Yes! Well, not smell specifically, though pheromones may be involved, but there is definitely some reason I have been able to live amongst the dead and the khiladri for so long. Some quantifiable, detectable reason, we just don't know what that is."

"We?"

"Uh... I."

Tala glared at him.

"Look, we're like a... an invader to this world, a bacterium that flows through its blood stream, and it wants us out. Well, not wants, but…"

"You sound like Ruen,” interrupted Tala. She had heard this line of reasoning before.

"Like who?"

"Never mind. Part of one of those groups that believe all we can do is sit and wait to be wiped out. They think the planet wants us dead."

"The planet doesn't want anything from us. This is all a reaction, automatic and involuntary."

"Hell of a reaction."

"A reaction a thousand suns in the making!"

Rial was once more caught up in his own stories, hands gesticulating wildly in emphasis and looking as if he had forgotten where he was.

"But that 'Ruen' might not be completely wrong, I'm afraid."

Rial's eyes became serious once more, gaze dropping to the ground in front of him as his feet shuffled nervously.

"The human population of this planet has been falling rapidly since before I could monitor[2] it, and continues to do so. There is not much hope..."

Tala could hear movement in the trees further back. The rest of the group was arriving.

"...not much hope, but there may be some. If your city can survive... If there are more people like me..." Rial continued.

"But the grakar attacked you."

"It attacked us, yes, and may well have attacked me. I never claimed to be safe from everything. The wilderness is still exactly that. No rules of nature have been overturned here; it's still predator and prey, kill or be killed. Only the smartest creature on this planet can overcome that drive," said Rial.

"The smartest?" Tala raised an eyebrow. The others were nearly upon them.

"The khiladri. Well, not the khiladri. The pack."

[1] The effect of sunlight as it filters through the trees, dappling the earth beneath.

[2] She swore at herself much later, when the import of that statement struck her.