Once the Hunter’s Pass lies behind us, we’re in true wilderness, beyond any influence of Hocknar or the Provisional Government or even the Terrors themselves. Out here in these harsh mountain climes, the only law is tooth and claw, ain’t no mercy if you screw up. In a way it’s kinda freeing really. Out here we can just be ourselves.

Yeslee’s given up riding her horse entirely now, it’s easier for her to scout ahead on foot. This is where she’s truly at home, creeping through the brush, climbing trees and leaping from branch to branch, impossibly silent no matter what terrain she’s navigating. She could be five feet away from me right now and I’d never know it, but I suspect she’s a long way off now. She can move so fast for someone so big.

It’s the middle of the day now, the sun’s right over us now, and for maybe a couple of hours in the day we’ve actually got real direct light to work with thanks to the towering peaks so tall and steep all round us. This valley’s deep, the trees don’t get a whole lot of sun here, but they’re tall enough all the same, furred evergreens crowding the path as we move through. In two more hours it’ll almost be like twilight again down here. It’s much quieter here too – there’s animal life here, I’m sure of it, but it’s a lot more stealthy than in the gentler lands we left behind. It’s has to be. There’s a whole lot of predators round here.

Rummaging in my pack, I pull out my bag of jerky, slip out a couple pieces and wrap the rest back up before putting them away again. I snap off a chunk with my teeth and start chewing, enjoying the rich, salty taste as I allow Ulrich to follow the only real path there is to take right now. ‘Spite of our surroundings, and the situation in general, I feel weirdly safe right now. Like I can get away with letting my guard down for a little while.

I hear the rough clatter of scree under hooves as Gael urges their mare up beside me, and my destrier bucks up a little bit as they both draw close, raising his head and straightening a touch like he’s trying to look even bigger than he already is, which is massive enough already. The mare’s not in season or I think he could go completely crazy, disciplined warhorse or not, but he clearly finds her attractive all the same. Boys. They’re all the same no matter what species they are.

For a few minutes we carry on like this in relative silence, Ulrich actually prancing a little bit now, and Gael’s mare turns her head to look at him every once in a while, clearly checking him out too. Mutual attraction, it’d seem. I look across at Gael and they’re smirking, clearly as amused by this whole development as I am. They’re blushing too, though, a little embarrassment peeking through. Not that I’m surprised – Gael’s always seemed lacking in real worldliness to me, and I’ve always suspected that goes double for dealing with things like romance and its ilk.

They’ve got their hood pushed back now, comfortable to be themselves out here like I am. Back in the lands of civilisation they tend to keep it up most of the time, but then half-elves are looked upon as something out the ordinary in most so-called polite societies, much like half-orcs. They don’t really inhabit either world, neither a creature of short, vital life from the cities or farmlands, nor a truly near-immortal, almost inherently magical being not entirely of this world. Most of the time their shorter but still clearly pointed ears and more subtle but still visible otherworldliness simply mark them out as clearly different, but also lesser. I don’t envy Gael the difficulties they must’ve had growing up as a half-elf in such an elite environment as the Silver Order’s magical Academy in Bavat, even if my own childhood wasn’t exactly a treat in its own right.

A lot of the time they put up walls around themselves far beyond the hood, adopting airs and graces that can come across as arrogant and superior if you ain’t used to ‘em, gotten to know the truly intelligent, vital person underneath the veneer. From what little I’ve been able to glean about their time in the Academy, this is how they grew up, learning to be like this as a kinda shield against bullying and prejudice from other students. I wonder if they had many friends among the student body. Maybe. There’s outcasts everywhere in the world, probably banded together there too.

Out here, though, Gael can drop all that. When we’re on the road, or in the middle of a job, they can behave how they choose, and I swear this is always the happiest I ever see ’em. So they got their hood swept back from that unruly bob of wild black curls, and they ain’t tucking it back behind their ears or shoving it out their face like they do when we’re in “polite” company. No nervous tics out here. Just easy smiles and those impossibly bright eyes.

“You really do like it out here, don’t you?”

Gael looks at me for a few moments, eyes narrowed a little as they study me. They seem as surprised by the question as I am that I asked it in the first place. Then that smile starts to come back. “Yes, I think perhaps I do. It’s much simpler out here. Just us and the work.”

I nod along with that. Nice, succinct. They got a lot of fancy words they like to employ sometimes, I suspect they do it partly to put others on the back foot and gain the advantage in a conversation, but sometimes they can cut through the bollocks and just say it straight like that. This really is my favourite version of Gael Foxtail. They’re a little like me, I think.

“Long ways to go yet. Plenty of time with just ourselves and the road.”

A little scowl crosses their face as they say: “Plenty of time for you to whip my backside in training too, I would imagine.” It’s gone fast and they’re smiling again.

“Yeah, that too. Y’know, we could try unarmed combat instead if you’d like. I could get you wrestlin’ in no time. Or knife-fighting if you think it’d be easier. The sword’s just my strongest suit.”

They chuckle a little at that. “No thanks. The sword’s fine. I mean you are right, I need to learn. I can handle my staff well enough but we’ve come up against some very tough customers during our time together. And I can only imagine what you’ve experienced in the years before you met me. I bow to your experience out here.”

“Yeah, well that’s all very well. But there’s plenty out here I still don’t get. That’s why we were kinda hurting as a party ‘fore you finally came along. Krakka’s great at what he does, but he’s kinda limited in what he can do with his god magic. We get hurt, he patches us up fine, and he takes down undead like nobody else I ever seen before. But there’s some serious magic out there. It’s good to have a mage of our own for that stuff.”

Gael looks at me for what feels like a long time again. They’re blushing again, and it’s clearly from the compliment. They start nibbling their lower lip and it’s thoroughly endearing. “Um … thanks. Glad I can be useful to the group.”

“Hey, listen. That don’t really matter. You’d be one of us anyway, magic or not. We’re a family. We look out for our own, and we feel safe cuz we always know everybody else’s got our back too. I’m not riding you ‘bout the fighting cuz it’ll make you more useful. I’m teaching you to fight so I know you’ll be safe.”

Another long look, and those eyes are locked on mine now. Their blush is fading now, but I see them swallowing hard, jaw clenched tight, and their bottom lip’s wobbling a little. Those impossibly deep, uncannily bright blue eyes are brimming wet now. I let go a deep sigh and reach over, grip their shoulder tight. If we weren’t riding right now I’d give ‘em a hug. After a moment they reach up with their right hand and grip mine, give it a squeeze, then reach up with the other so they can wipe their eyes with the voluminous sleeve of their robe. “Thank you. Really. It means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.” I give their shoulder one more squeeze and let go, then look back over my shoulder at the rest of the group, strung out behind us.

Driver 8’s as stoic and stone-faced as ever, just perpetually plodding along beside the cart, while Wenrich simply gives me a cool, calm nod, nothing clear enough to read in it. Krakka’s in back right now, he probably hasn’t even seen this exchange. Art’s the only one who’s clearly paying attention, and he gives me a big, beaming grin full of sharp teeth as he gives a little wink. I give him my sternest, harshest glare in return and his grin drops quick enough. I manage not to smile too smug as I turn back to the road.

We ride on for a time, and the silence is comfortable now. After a while we come across a fork in the track ahead, and I hold up my hand for the rest to stop as I rein Ulrich up, Gael doing the same at my side. Trotting forward I look around, then I spot an arrow, freshly scratched into the bark of a tree on the right, underneath a little symbol I instantly recognise as Yeslee’s sign. Turn right here. I turn in the saddle and signal my intention to the others, then nod over at Gael before turning onto the correct path, the rest of our little convoy following without question.

We’re moving ever so gradually downhill now, and after a few minutes I can hear the subtlest trickling sound somewhere in front. Water ahead. Seems right.

“So … I get that your friend Wenrich can’t tell us what’s in the box.” I venture after a little while. “But you ain’t bound by any orders not to say, are you? You got any idea what we’re transporting?”

Gael gives me a sidelong glance, thoughtful again, then looks back over their shoulder for a moment. Clearly clocking Wenrich. When they turn back to the road they’re a little stony-faced, but they nod all the same. “I don’t know exactly, but I have my suspicions.”

“Like what?” I get a chill down my spine at this, but it ain’t nerves. More like excitement, I think. Anticipation.

Gael thinks for another minute or two, I suspect working on finding the right words. They know I’m not dumb, but when it comes to magic I’m still largely a layman, so they’re gonna try not to overwhelm me in jargon. Finally a sigh, and they look up at me from under that unruly fringe, a little sheepish now. This is gonna be complicated, then.

“Right … how much do you know about the Sundering?”

“Just what they teach most kids when they’re young, I reckon. Tao broke, they say. There was this massive disaster, nobody really knows what it was or what caused it, but one day the world was normal, then everything just kinda … I dunno, it stopped. The world stopped spinning. The gods had to step in, they used all their power and their magic, and set it all turning again. But it didn’t really work, cuz ever since Tao’s been turning with one side always turned away from the sun. Which never really convinced me to tell the truth.”

“How come?” Gael smiles at that, brow cocked too. Incredulous, but amused.

“Well Helios, he’s a god, ain’t he? God of the sun. Serena’s twin brother. He’s a god, just as powerful as all the rest of ‘em, right? So how come, once he saw what happened, how come he didn’t just make a new sun on the other side so they could have day on the dark side too?”

Gael’s other brow goes up at that. Reckon I’ve actually genuinely surprised ‘em with that one. “That’s … hmm … not really how it works, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. There’s more to it than just the gods. Da taught me something about science when I was a kid too. Like we’re moving through space while we’re spinning, and we’re goin’ round the sun, not the other way round. So that’s why the Night Lands are always pointed away from the sun. It’s also why the days and nights are always the same length, depending on where you are, no matter what time o’ year it is, but how it used to be they’d get longer or shorter, different times of year. Pretty weird idea, that.”

“Your father taught you that? You said he taught soldiers how to fight.”

“True, but he was smart too. Da was a real sharp tool, as they say. Anyways, ma told him all that stuff. Before I was born. She was a teacher. He always wished she’d survived having me, cuz she would’ve brought me up to be smart as her.” I feel a pang as I speak these words, a lump growing in my throat, but I choke it back hard, blink away the tears before they can come. When I turn back Gael’s looking at me again, real thoughtful now.

“What?”

“I think you’re very much all the best that both your parents could have made you, Kesla. You’re one of the brightest people I know, in your way. You may not have the education that someone like myself has always benefitted from, but you’re still extremely clever.”

Reckon I might actually be blushing now, I can feel my cheeks flushing hot, the rising heat in my neck, but if Gael sees they don’t seem to acknowledge it. “Um … thanks … I guess.”

Another smile, then they shrug. “You seem to have the basics down on the Sundering, anyway. It was a great cataclysm, yes. And you’re right, no-one really knows what caused it, although there are a great many theories. Some believe that the great dark beast, Apophis, might have been the cause.”

“You mean the Void?” I feel a chill just thinking about that. Apophis. They call it the Anti-god, or sometimes the Adversary. “I heard that it was the father and mother of all monstrosities, that everything that’s evil and unnatural in Tao today came from its diseased core. All the undead and mutations and … whatever it is crawling round in the darkness beyond the Borderlands. That’s why all the necromancers an’ worse tend to flock to its worship.”

“Well, not exactly, but yes. Something like that.” Gael thinks again, considering their words carefully. “Some people believe that, but there are many who think that Apophis was actually created in the Sundering, that it was such an almighty terrible thing that happened that all the negative energy that was unleashed just coalesced and assumed an actual divine form. That Apophis is simply some kind of eldritch by-product.”

“Yuck.” I frown deeply, not liking what that suggests to me. “I dunno if that’s better or worse.”

“Neither do any of the people who prescribe to these theories, because if the Sundering could create something so abominable as Apophis simply by accident, then whatever did cause it was something truly terrible. Unfortunately, even the gods remain stubbornly obtuse regarding that subject.” They give me another sidelong glance, then add: “It means they don’t seem to understand it.”

“I know. Da taught me words too. Said ma called it a vocabulary.”

This time they laugh out loud, and I have a little chuckle too. We ride on in silence for a few more minutes, buoyed by our mutual amusement. Finally I find my curiosity leading me to speak again. “Okay, so what do you believe? If it wasn’t the Void?”

“Personally, I don’t know. There are too many possible variables that still remain unaccounted for, there’s just no way to definitively prove anything at all. Too much mystery still to be solved, if you will, and not enough clues. But there are many, especially in the Silver Order, who think it might have something to do with whatever does lie on the other side of the Borderlands, that whatever holds sway in the Night Lands caused all this to begin with. That this, what the world has become, was their intention, or at least something much like it. Or perhaps something much worse, perhaps the gods foiled this plan, at least in part, when they set Tao back on its path again.”

“You mean maybe whoever, or whatever it was, they wanted Tao cast adrift in the darkness entirely, and the gods making it so only half the world was being stuck in night meant they had to make do with what they could get?” Another shudder. “Don’t reckon I like the sound o’ that either.”

“Nor do I. But there are signs that this could at least be part of the truth. If Apophis was made in the Sundering, it wasn’t all that was created. Every once in a while, some remnant pops up, something touched by that impossible energy that broke the world. A piece of wreckage, something that all that pure, concentrated power got forced into. When I was at the Academy, I was taught a bit about this kind of thing. It’s called radiation. That object will always carry that energy, and it has an actual effect on everything around it.”

“What kind of effect?” I gulp, I can’t help it. I’m not liking the sound of this.

“A powerful one.” Gael shrugs. “Really, it depends on the energy itself, and the object to an extent. Different effects for different frequencies of energy, or depending on the kind of object that’s been imbued with this energy. Often it’s a negative one, sometimes quite debilitating. It can even kill you if you get too close, or are exposed for too long. Other times it can be strangely beneficial.”

I actually pull up on the reins this time, Ulrich almost rearing for a moment, and Gael’s mare shies from him, but only a little. I didn’t even mean to do it, I just did it. But I stare across at them, genuinely taken aback, then look back at the cart as the others stop as well, Wenrich frowning a little as he looks at me. “Are you telling me we could be getting slowly poisoned by this thing right this second, and not even know it? Are you seriously telling me this?”

“No, of course not.” Gael’s manoeuvred their horse closer and takes hold of my wrist, gentle but firm. “Look, the Order’s been uncovering this stuff for a while now. We’ve got a lot of experience dealing with this kind of problem, we’ve come up with some very effective protocols for rendering these artifacts as safe as possible. That’s why it’s sealed up so tight in such a big crate. I would hazard that the object itself is actually quite small, the rest of the box is purely to make room for the dampening. We should be safe as houses.”

Looking into their eyes, my mind is racing away a mile a minute, going over the connotations of all this, what they said, what they’re saying now. I look back, see Wenrich’s stood up now, he’s watching us both closely, but he’s too far back to have been able to hear our conversation. That was kinda the point. That being said, doubt he’s gotta think too hard on what we been discussing could provoke this kinda response outta me.

As I manage to get my nerves under control again I take several deep breaths, wheeling Ulrich gently round until we’re pointed back down the track again. Gael’s watching me close, wary now, probably regretting telling me quite so much as they did. I nod back at them, trying to put an easy smile on for their sake, but I’m not entirely sure it works. “Okay. If you say it’s cool, then it’s cool.”

“I mean it, Kes. If they hadn’t perfected this hundreds of years ago already I wouldn’t be trusting them with it any more than you would.”

“Sure. I trust you, at least. If you say so, then I’ll give ‘em the benefit of the doubt.” I click my heels very gently into Ulrich’s sides and he jolts into a walk again, clearly enthusiastic to be moving again. Reckon he can feel the stress that’s still rushing through me. Gael keeps pace with me, and soon enough I can hear the others following too.

“So does this explain why these … whoever they are, why they’re so dead set on getting’ their mitts on our cargo?”

“Maybe. This artifact, we think it’s like … an engine, almost. Something that can power something big. Or a catalyst, perhaps. Something that could provoke a great change, if they put enough time and effort and resources into exploiting the sheer power this thing has inside it. It’s not beyond all realms of possibility that, if some great and terrible power got enough of these artifacts together and forced them to unleash their energies altogether in just the right way, at just the right time …” They shudder.

“What, you think some crazy bastard out there could be looking to kickstart another Sundering? Seriously?”

The look that Gael gives me this time is one I never actually saw before. I seen ‘em startled in battle, rattled even on occasion, although for the most part they tend to bloom surprisingly well when things get proper tight. Nor is this the sheepish nervousness I seen ‘em try to hide so often, generally with varying degrees of success. No, right now they look genuinely spooked. Like actually afraid. “Minerva protect me … I hope not.”

Chancing one last look back at the cart, I see Wenrich’s still watching me closely. Still calculating. I wonder if I should take him aside tonight, have a polite little conversation with him about exactly what he’s brought us into. Would he be so forthcoming once I lay it all out for him?

Probably not. I like him, it’s real hard not to, the way he is, or at least way he seems, but I still don’t trust him. He’s here, in it with us, but he’s still playing his cards too close to his chest. Reckon far as he’s concerned the Silver Order’s his first concern, getting this job done an’ keeping their precious secrets. We’re a much lower concern in his agenda. Even Gael, if it comes to it.

Well … nothing I can do ‘bout it right now. We’re here now, middle of nowhere, heading into a place which is essentially the middle of nowhere squared. For at least a week, we’re gonna be too busy staying alive to really have time to worry about anything beyond it. No point dwelling on things we can’t change, least until they’re relevant again. Right now my job’s making sure they don’t.

Regardless, it’s stuck in there now, a niggle in the back of my mind, an’ I reckon it’s gonna stay put for now. What good humour I might have felt being out here before, it’s tainted now. Dunno if I’ll be able to get comfortable again any time soon …