After the interrogation, a land soldier took me to a richly-appointed bedroom two levels down from Ithia’s throne room. Noospet and her guards had left, so it was just the one guide. I thought that might demonstrate a new level of trust, and we’d take a straightforward path, but the route turned out to be just as circuitous as before.

The room itself wasn’t very big, but the carpet was thick and decorated with a diamond pattern in reds and ochres surrounding a beautiful seven-point buck at the center. He was highlighted by what appeared to be a setting sun in the background.

There were paintings too, each one of a forest scene, and I recognized the trees and animals as belonging locally. The air was a bit stuffy, while also being damp and cold, but there was a glossy-furred blanket on the bed, and I wasted no time in stripping down to get under it. Gods, but I’m tired.

Alas, sleep didn’t come nearly as quickly as I wished for it. There were too many thoughts swirling through my head, and Yuki and I ended up catching up and talking through recent events.

I recognized it was weird—we could almost instantly know what the other knew by merging our consciousnesses, but it wasn’t the same as being able to bounce ideas off of each other. The extra perspective inherent in coming at a topic from two directions was incredibly helpful, even though Yuki often depended on my experiences. Their knack for finding patterns, for noticing what I sometimes missed, and yes, even their hundreds of years of life before we’d ever met—they were things I valued. Plus, I just enjoyed their company, and I found I missed them after being a full day apart.

Eventually, though, my exhaustion caught up to me, and my eyes grew heavy.

###

A force tugged me from my bed, and I scrambled to keep from falling to the floor. At the same time, my hands reached for the knife I’d left strapped to my leg. Only, there was no knife, and I never hit the floor. I floated until I softly touched down.

Beside me stood the Deer God—imposing and indifferent as always, but for the first time ever normal-sized. He occupied the room as if he owned it, and maybe he did. I didn’t begin to understand how it worked on a spiritual level, but I saw that he’d pissed on the rug and marked the territory as belonging to him.

More importantly, a silver cord looped around one of his antler tines. One end connected to me, and the other to my body that was still asleep in the bed. And, when the Deer God turned to pass through the door, I was forced to follow along. The cord from my body extended as I moved farther away, then faded from sight. When I focused my attention hard, I saw it shimmer back into view, only for it to disappear again when my attention lapsed.

The experience was fundamentally different than my previous spirit journey with Ikfael, and also from the times I’d dreamed my way into the spirit world. This time around, I felt more aware, and seemed closer to the physical world. It was like—instead of a thin line separating the living and the spirit like I’d been taught—it was more a wide border. One that let you be closer to one side or the other.

My sense for Yuki was gone, and I felt strangely isolated—missing both the uekisheile and the overwhelming sensations from when I opened my spirit eyes to the land. The Deer God didn’t wait for me to explore, however. He pulled me along, retracing the steps I’d taken earlier so that we went back to the throne room. He only stopped when he faced the closed dragon doors. The two guards stood to each side, with neither of them noticing us.

The Deer God glanced at me, then nodded to the doors. In my gut, I felt a certain knowledge arise... there was something about the doors that kept him from going inside. So, I looked closer, bringing my full attention to bear, but nothing seemed amiss to me. The doors looked solid, and it was nice to have time to actually examine the artfully done embellishments, but there was no magic involved that I could see.

Annoyance. I definitely felt annoyance arising from my belly, and the Deer God nodded again. Briefly, I thought about rebelling, but mi abuela’s stories came to mind. They were easier to remember in this state, the fog of time and memory lifting, and I recalled that the earth gods didn’t always play nice. They often challenged their chosen in exchange for the protection and blessings they offered.

Had the Deer God protected me? Blessed me? My Status wasn’t available while spirit journeying, but I'd never seen anything like that previously. I’d had good fortune since coming to this world—there’d been a number of helpful synchronicities—but I’d attribute those to Diriktot setting me up for success, dropping me off in a place and time that would suit me and my talents. And there were the spirits of my family looking out for me too. I couldn’t forget them.

The Deer God though? I’d snubbed him as child, running away from his blessing, and maybe he was miffed about that, which was entirely possible according to mi abuela. I’d been afraid when courage had been required. It was—I’d realized later in life—one of my deepest regrets.

I’d failed mi abuelitos. They’d tried to pass onto me their traditions, mysteries, and the essences of what made them, them. I’d carried my grandfather’s ways farther than my grandmother’s but still felt like I hadn’t done enough for either.

Well, regret chained you down, and the way to free yourself from it is to do things differently, to choose a different path when offered. So, I put my hand against the door, and half expected a shock to my spirit or to be repelled in some way. Anticlimactically, my hand just passed through. I pushed my arm in, my shoulder, and then the rest of me.

Immediately, the air thrummed with power. Waves of it flowed over me; I felt like I was swimming through a thick, tingling syrup. The sconces had all been put out, and the diminishing light from the fireplace hid Ithia’s throne in shadows, making it seem like a creature in hiding waiting to pounce on the unwary.

Suddenly, the silver cord flashed into visibility, and a whoosh moved through me. Then, the Deer God sprang forth from my belly. I stared in surprise as he took a couple of prancing steps forward. Pleased—he was definitely pleased, and he kept walking toward the throne in anticipation. The cord faded into invisibility again, but it still pulled me along. I was forced to follow him.

The door adjacent to the throne had been left cracked open, letting a sliver of firelight through. The light dimmed briefly as someone on the other side passed across. We weren’t entirely alone then.

That didn’t stop the Deer God. He went straight up to the giant skull, his nostrils flaring. Then, he took a bite of the closest tooth. Not a nibble either—he chomped right down, crunching through the material.

My sight did the weird double-vision thing that I’d experienced before where something was two different things at once. In this case, I saw clearly that the Deer God had taken a bite out of the tooth. At the same time, the tooth was still intact.

The Deer God took another bite and then several more, happily munching his way down the tooth’s side. I watched as the whole tooth was swallowed, a mouthful at a time. Yet, it was still there. Only... only... it didn’t feel the same. Something vital had been taken away. Unlike the rest of the skull, that small section didn’t shimmer with power.

Oh, hells. I’d let the fox into the chicken coop. Or, it was more accurate to say the deer into the vegetable garden. Whatever, the metaphor didn’t matter; Ithia was going to be so pissed. The throne was clearly an important symbol—maybe even a magical tool—and here was the Deer God eating it up. I was so screwed.

But that was only true if she could pin the... the theft on me. As far as I knew, neither she nor any of her advisors could see spirits. The panic that’d been burgeoning eased as I thought it through. I just had to play dumb. And be extra careful around any truth spells or abilities, but that was true no matter what.

Actually, no—stealing power from the land knight would likely get me into a different and higher order of trouble than possessing a uekisheile symbiote. I waved at the Deer God to get him to stop, but he just snorted in response. A feeling of immense satisfaction arose inside me.

The Deer God held the intention of eating the entire skull, and to do it tonight while he could still get access to the room. He nudged me away, so that he could focus on assimilating the energy.

His grip on me loosened, and I felt like I could move farther away from him. But not too far; he cautioned me that it was dangerous outside. This world’s gods—their gifts wouldn’t protect me in the state I was currently in.

And that was another shock in what was becoming a long night of them. Tenna’s Blessing didn’t apply? It totally should’ve because I wasn’t dead; I knew that innately and deeply. But then I remembered the dark creature that’d attacked me when I’d gone on the spirit journey with Ikfael. I’d destroyed it before it could strike me, but there’d been no sign of Tenna’s Blessing then either.

These spirit journeys were more dangerous than I’d realized. No wonder my family took precautions to arrange for protections—the inner doorway I’d built at their urging and the weapons I left behind to protect it. And, ostensibly, the Deer God too, now that we were copasetic.

We were, weren’t we?

The feeling I got back from him was that it was a promising start.

###

The Deer God was halfway through the lower jaw, when Knight Ithia stepped cautiously through the partially-opened door. She had her side sword in hand, and her eyes roved across the room looking for threats.

She lifted a necklace with her free hand, there was a briefly pulse of mana, and a soft white light shone out. A burst of qi later, and she was dashing across the room, almost faster than I could see. She swept the light behind every pillar and into every corner and shadow. All it took was a couple of breaths for her to cover the whole room.

Whatever that necklace’s light was supposed to do, though, it hadn’t revealed either the Deer God or me. Which was good, because I hadn’t had time to react or hide.

The dragon doors opened as the guards came into to check on the noise. Ithia conferred with them, and then the guards took out their own necklaces. The three of them swept the room in a line to make sure nothing escaped their view. I climbed up on top of the skull and hid, just in case.

They found nothing, and after conferring some more, the guards returned to their posts. Ithia lingered to look at the skull a while, her head quirked in thought or confusion, but then she went back to the side room, leaving the door open. My curiosity got the better of me, and I crawled back down to take a peek.

The room was a combination of study and office. Ithia sat at a low desk scribbling on a sheet of paper, working her way through a stack of them. There were cushions around the desk, and also a small round table in the center of the office. The walls were covered in bookshelves and cabinets.

The only nod to art was the rug on the floor—a mellow yellow bordered with images of intertwined tree branches and songbirds. I imagined it was a nice place to rest the eyes from all the paperwork.

Ithia looked up when I entered the room, but she didn’t see me, including after I made a couple of rude gestures in her directions. It would’ve been incredibly embarrassing if she was only pretending, but from what I could tell of her body language and spirit, I was confident in my invisibility.

I swung around the desk to look at the document she was working on, and it was a copy of a ship manifest. It was part of a customs report, which included the cargo’s value and the tariffs owed and collected. I took a moment to dig into the numbers, but they looked all right, assuming the shipper wasn’t hiding anything.

Ah, the next page included a declaration from both the ship’s captain and the inspector, as well as the details of the inspection. It was all interesting stuff, and I lingered over her shoulder to read along. I, maybe, got a little carried away, and lost track of time.

Periodically, Ithia got up from her work to check the throne room, but nothing visibly changed out there. Every time it happened, I just waited for her to come back, so that I could read the next report.

It was silly—I knew that—but given the crime happening just outside the door, it was nice to focus on something mundane and familiar. Nostalgic even.

###

“You’re here, my shadow.”

Ithia’s words roused me from the land of accounting. It took a second for me to remember that I was in her office.

A plain, unassuming figure came through the door to sit on a cushion on the other side of the desk. Then, like a curtain falling, the impression of them fell away to reveal Silasenei. Which chilled me to my metaphoric bones. Not even spirit sight could spot her when she was in disguise.

It must’ve been a talent at work: either the ability she gained from her Born Hunter or, more likely, The Hidden Piece. Talents seemed to be supercharged anytime they included an article like “a” or “the.”

Silasenei observed the stack of documents on the desk, and said, “The reports never end, do they?”

Ithia tsked. “Most days I am a slayer of paper rather than beasts.”

“Or lodges,” Silasenei said.

“If only. Those, I must corral as if I were a rancher.” Ithia put down the report she’d been reading. “But you are late, tell me—what did you find?”

Silasenei scowled. “The apartment was empty. There were only the week-old remains of a cleansing flame. The assassin has either changed bases or left the city.”

The surface of Ithia’s spirit rippled, and a handful of ruptures exposed a jagged red underneath. Her fists creaked as they clenched, but she didn’t fly into a rage. For a time, all she did was breathe deeply.

Silasenei watched her carefully. “You’re getting better at catching the anger.”

"I've embarrassed myself once, and refuse to do so again.” Ithia shook her head. “This experience has given me new respect for the dusk warriors.”

“It’s not a path I’d choose willingly,” Silasenei said.

“Nor I,” Ithia replied grimly. “What next then?”

“We continue to search. If nothing else, we may turn up evidence of who sent the assassin. Given what we know is happening in Ganas and Sugrusu, the chances are high that it’s Maltra, but we’ve no proof yet.”

“And the poison?” Ithia asked.

“The alchemist turned in her report yesterday.” Silasenei snorted. “The fool would’ve been done sooner, but she was juggling jobs even though I paid extra to rush the request.”

“And?”

“Whoever the assassin was, they’ve found a way to concentrate darklight. What would normally appear to be one kutha’s worth could hide as much as fifty. Maybe more—the sample we gave her was just a small fragment, after all.”

Ithia sighed and leaned back. “So, what was supposed to be eighty kutha of darklight was actually—”

“—four thousand,” Silasenei said.

The two lapsed into silence as they considered the implications, and I was right there with them: A kutha was the equivalent of five light, so that meant that someone had arranged for Ithia to absorb twenty thousand darklight in one go. No wonder she was on the verge of turning dark.

“It was fortunate,” Silasenei said, breaking the silence, “that you were so strict with your proportions when you were younger. If you’d even been slightly laxer...”

“Even so, I won’t be able to touch darklight for at least three more levels. And even then, will I be able to trust any that’s given to me?”

“We’ll have to test every batch,” Silasenei said. “For you and all our critical people.”

“True,” Ithia said, nodding. “What better way to disrupt our city than to turn all our land soldiers dusk?”

“It’s worse than that,” Silasenei said, frowning. “The people behind the attack have shown a high level of expertise. My concern is that they continue to develop along this path and are eventually able to disguise their poison and place it within silverlight.”

Ithia grimaced. “We’ll need new procedures to certify the sources of all light.”

“The hunters will, of course, comply, but the merchants and soldiers will complain. Can I include their grandmasters in our planning?”

“Yes, but let’s continue to keep my condition secret. Only you and I need to know about how close I am to dark.”

“I wonder if that’s true anymore... after your performance at the Voorhei Hunter’s Lodge trial.”

Ithia’s face flushed. “That’s enough. The spear is already thrown and will land where it will land. I’ve already arranged to soften the blow. Your hunters will either handle it or break.”

“And you’ll not try to poach them—”

“Sila, I said enough. You don’t have to tell me—the years of trying to woo Mulallamu to my side have all been wasted. You can’t scold me more than I already scold myself.”

The conversation between them paused. Then, out of the blue, Silasenei said, “I want revenge.”

“Oh, I’ll make Maltra bleed for what they’ve done.” Ithia closed her eyes to contain the rage building inside. “Assuming it was them—someone may be taking advantage of the trouble between us.”

“My people are investigating,” Silasenei said. “We’ll find the truth.”

“In the meantime, we grow stronger and thornier. To that end, tell Iseld to acquiesce when Voorhei comes to her with a change to their agreement. My people will be taking their boon one out of every three years. Also, tell her we are willing to buy the slots she doesn’t use.”

“We could arrange for magic lessons for her son with Aslishtei,” Silasenei said. “That’d win some goodwill.”

“And serve to chastise Asli too, yes. I like it.” Ithia tapped a finger on her desk in thought. “Also, do what you can to influence Voorhei’s tournament in a direction that favors the land soldiers.”

“The tournament belongs to Ikfael,” the hunter grandmaster clarified.

Ithia stared in response. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

“Whether we believe it or not, doesn’t matter. We must act as if it’s true, otherwise we risk intensifying the strife between lodges, and the opportunity to strengthen Albei will fall from our hands. We cannot be rash or greedy.” Silasenei leaned to the side, propping herself on her elbow. “I know the people of Voorhei; they carry Inleio’s spear. Come at them too hard, and they will run from you.”

“Like Inneioleia ran from you?”

“Now who is scolding whom?” Silasenei said. Her words didn’t bite, though.

A wry grin passed between the women, and with mutual consent they switched topics to hash out the initial procedures for certifying silver and darklight. There was supposed to be more information about the assassin, but it was in a report on Ithia’s desk that remained closed for the entire time the two of them talked.

I eavesdropped for as long as I could, but after a couple of hours, I felt a tug and was pulled into the throne room. The thrumming that’d been in the air was completely gone, and the Deer God’s belly was grossly distended. There was a wild look in his eyes too, like you might see on a two-year old who’d just gorged himself on a tub of ice cream.

My desire to stay longer went unheard. Instead, the Deer God dragged me back to the dragon doors, and waited until I caved and pushed my way through. They used me as a bridge once again, popping out on the other side.

At least, he escorted me back to my body. With a gentler-than-expected nudge, he sent me back into my body, along with a gift—a tiny fragment of the presence he’d consumed.

I gasped as it flashed through me, becoming a part of me. Then, two things happened at once. First, I received two notifications:

Spirit Arts has increased from 10 to 11.

Spirit Magic has increased from 4 to 5.

In addition to the notifications, my Spirt attribute now stood at 16/17.

Second, I heard Yuki’s panicked voice: Oh my god, there you are! Are you all right? We couldn’t hear you.

I’m sorry, I said, then saved us the time explaining by merging consciousnesses. Our thoughts flickered as the memory of the past couple of hours were quickly reviewed and integrated by the Yuki portion of our mind. Then, our Ollie/Eight realized that there’d been an urgent message from Sun-on-Snow while his spirit had wandered.

The blynx had detected intruders in the Glen, and it’d been left to Yuki alone to guide her response. Fortunately, it’d been the silver wolves, and none of them had been injured this time. They’d had Leiluminwei with them, though—the great egret had ridden on his beloved Moonlight’s back.

Communication had been limited, since none of the visitors spoke Diaksh or even used the signed version. It’d been left to Yuki to pantomime their way through the encounter using their tendrils and Snow’s body.

The process had also been complicated by Yuki’s fear at being unable to wake Ollie/Eight, yet they’d bravely faced the challenge, stumbling often but eventually getting the gist: Namely, the forest’s spirits were uneasy. They’d sensed something fundamentally changing—an energy that built like a massive storm approaching, but the weather had been and continued to be clear.

Leiluminwei and the silver wolves were still without a territory after having been driven out by the musk ox herd to the southwest, so they’d come to the Glen to seek shelter. Ikfael’s absence had been a surprise to them, and our heart swelled with pride as we recalled how the Yuki portion of us bartered an agreement. The wolves could temporarily stay in the Glen in exchange for help protecting it.

We briefly sent our attention to the portion of us within Snow to look out through her eyes at the gathered wolves sleeping around the pool. The kittens Felix and Oscar were among them, and the wolves were gracious enough to put up with them.

The sight was a healing one, and we lingered there in our joined state to provide comfort to both Yuki and Ollie/Eight. There’d been a great many shocks of late, and both sides of us could use the solace.

###

The next morning, I was fed a hearty breakfast in my room, and then sent on my way with an escort back to the inn. Tegen and Teila were there, worried out of their minds. I told them about the attack on me, the reprisal, and the interrogation by the land knight, and as I spoke, the rest of the team straggled in, along with my bodyguards. They’d all been questioned and held overnight, until word had arrived earlier in the morning that they were free to go.

Once we went upstairs, Ikfael listened as I retold the story of the previous day’s events, and she pinched my cheek for being so reckless. Sheedi showed up partway through, looking as pristine as I’d ever seen her, so I had to go through the details a second time.

Once Tegen and Teila got over their shock, they burned with anger at Kuros and Banan. The two hunters from Albei were supposed to be family—cousins at least. Their betrayal offended everything the lodges stood for.

Teila also worried about Silasenei’s reaction to their deaths, but Mumu explained that, if anything, the grandmaster owed our lodge compensation for the attempts on my life. As for the rest of the Albei lodge, word was that Banan and Kuros didn’t have many friends. Gossip was unavoidable, but there shouldn’t be anyone going out of their way to make trouble.

Later, I pulled Ikfael aside to tell her about the developments in the Glen, and she had me doublecheck to make sure Leiluminwei wasn’t attempting to steal her territory. To Yuki and my eyes, though, he just appeared to be napping.

As for the conversation between Ithia and Silasenei, I kept that to myself for the time being. No one else needed to know, especially since the story involved the Deer God stealing the magic from the land knight’s throne.

On the other hand, it sounded like the Deer God’s actions affected the forest around the Glen. I should probably tell Ikfael, but later though—after we left Albei. There was too much risk of being overheard. Gods, Silasenei could be in the room at that moment, and I wouldn’t even know it.

Maybe I was being paranoid, but I Status checked everyone present. Whew, no surprises. At least for now.