If it hadn’t been for my bloodbeak, the trip probably would have been a lot bloodier. The raptor soared overhead, and its incredible vision had no trouble picking out the irregular shapes of monsters lying in wait above us. It couldn’t tell me what it saw, of course, but I learned to read its responses when it spotted things and prepared accordingly. If the bloodbeak felt an urge to swoop down and kill, the creature was probably small, Simple ranked, and relatively harmless. A surge of territorial feelings meant it saw something dangerous that it wanted to drive out but not kill, something that we could deal with without too much trouble. A sense of fear or caution, on the other hand, told me that it saw something too strong for it to handle, and we needed to be ready to fight.

The map I’d gotten from Manasi was good, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The sheriff knew all the watering holes along the road, where we could stop safely to let the roadwalkers rest, and where things got rough or dangerous. Despite its dilapidated condition, the road was designed to let caravans move between Whitestone and Murkburg, and watering holes were spaced out regularly along the trail, each with its own roughly roofed area to let the roadwalkers rest in the shade. Of course, other animals took advantage of the clean water and shade, too, and we usually had to drive a few beasts off to give the mounts and my pets a chance to drink. We stopped at one of these as the sun slid down into the dust cloud on the western horizon, painting the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink.

“This’ll be a good place to rest for the night,” the sheriff said as he slid off his roadwalker and led it toward the far side of the watering hole.

“Are you sure?” I asked dubiously. “I mean, it’s probably better than sleeping in the grass, but didn’t you say there are cutthroats out here? Seems like they’d watch for people to stop at a place like this.”

“They do,” he nodded. “But I’d rather deal with them than something like a plainsstalker finding us in the middle of the night.”

“Plainsstalker?” I echoed.

“Yep. High Predator type, big as a roadwalker but a lot deadlier. They come out at night and hunt in the grasses. They aren’t common, but they like to hunt men more than anything else, so there’s a good chance of drawing one if we’re out on the prairie.”

He turned at looked at the setting sun. “You probably thought that the prairie was busy today, but that ain’t nothing compared to how it gets once the sun goes down. There’s a time just after sunset when it’s not too hot and not too cold, and the beasties all come out to play. It’s not safe for men to move around out there until at least a couple hours after midnight, when the chill sends most of them back to their dens.”

“Won’t they just come after us here?” I pointed out. “We’re still in the prairie, after all.”

“Nope. That’s what the shelter over there is for.”

We watered our mounts, then led them beneath the shelter, really just four wooden posts driven into the ground as corners and a fifth in the center as support, with a roof built above them. It had no walls, no floor, and nothing that looked like protection from the elements, the cold, or the beasts that were apparently waking up. Someone had dug a firepit to one side of the shelter and lined it with rocks, and piles of what looked like dried manure were stacked not far from it.

The sheriff ignored those and walked to the center pole. As he laid a hand on it, I noticed a series of runes burned into the pole, and I watched with See Magic as her channeled power into the pole. A globe of vaporous energy swirled around the runes and began expanding outward, spreading to fill the shelter and stopping at its walls.

“There we are,” the man nodded. “Now, we’ll be mostly safe.”

“What was that?” I asked, examining the misty curtain of magic surrounding the building. “Is it some kind of ward?”

“Nah, nothing that fancy – or powerful. It’s like a mask that makes it hard for the beasts outside to sense us. Long as we stay in here, they’ll ignore us – unless we make a lot of noise, or someone’s bleeding badly, or something like that.”

“What about the cold? Or bad weather?”

“That’s what our tents are for,” he chuckled. “And the firepit – which you can go ahead and light. You can stack those dung chips just like firewood, and they’ll burn just as well.”

With a sigh, I pulled on a pair of cloth gloves and began stacking piles of dung in the firepit. I breathed as shallowly as possible; the dried manure didn’t smell, but I didn’t imagine that breathing in bits of shit was good for me. After I had a decent-sized stack, I pulled out Flame Charm and sent the fire into the bottom of the pile, which caught immediately and quickly spread until a cheery blaze roared in the pit – one that smelled surprisingly fragrant, like burning hay rather than what I’d expected.

I looked back at the man, then examined the shelter once more. “So, does every caravan have a handler who can activate this, then?”

“Don’t need to be a handler to use runes, boy,” he chuckled. “Anyone can do it, at least for Simple runes like these.” He made a face. “Well, the masking runes are Greater ones, but the rune to empower them is Simple. The real limit is your arcania, and if you aren’t a handler, you probably don’t have the scores to use anything more complex, is all. Plus, without a bond, your body can’t handle the power flows, and you can hurt yourself – even become rune-warped.”

“Rune-warped?”

“Yep. Happens sometimes when a person uses too much magic, more than they can handle. See, a man’s body ain’t designed to handle magic, and magic don’t work well on people. That’s why we use runes, to keep the magic outside ourselves. Without them, we’d have trouble lighting a damn fire, much less calling down lightning or freezing a monster solid.

“Problem is, you’re never really untouched by the magic. If you try to use a rune that your body can’t handle, it usually just hurts and maybe knocks you out. If you do it too often, though – or overdo it by a huge amount – your body changes to handle the magic better, and those changes show up on the outside.”

“Show up how?” I asked curiously.

“No way to know until it happens,” he shrugged. “Might grow a third ear, or fur on your body. Your skin could turn purple, or your hair could fall out, everywhere at once. You could get an extra finger, or even an extra eye.” He snorted. “Heard tell of one man whose cock grew to be about twice its previous size. Took the name ‘Long Leg’ after that and made himself a living by entertaining ladies. Course, I never met the man, so who knows?”

He looked at me seriously. “The point is, a man’s gotta be careful with magic. It’s like a snowfall on a mountain; you never know what’s going to set it off. That’s why smart people stick with runes that they can easily handle and don’t reach too far.”

I stared at the fire, processing his words. “Wait, so when you called that storm, were you risking that?”

“Yep. Knew it was a possibility, but it was that or lose half the town. Plus, I could always hope to get as lucky as Long Leg, right?”

We set up the tents, and I found that mine basically worked the same way Renica’s had on Soluminos. It was made of canvas and leather, thicker and heavier to hold out the night’s chill, but it functioned more or less the same. I laid some blankets and my saddlebags inside, then returned to the fire where the sheriff sat heating up a pot of water.

“You got rations, I assume?” he asked as I neared.

“Of course. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to live off hunting the whole way.”

“We probably can, but it’ll slow you down. Go ahead and toss a couple of Manasi’s travel bars into this pot.” I did, and a few minutes later, the sheriff took the bubbling pot off the water to reveal something that looked like thick oatmeal.

“This is the way to eat those damned things,” he said. “They’re all dried out, and eating them uncooked dries you out, as well. They taste better this way, and they’re a sight easier to put down.”

He spooned some into a bowl for me, and we sat back to eat. The mix was thinner than oatmeal, and the dried fruit and meat inside hadn’t really fully absorbed the water, making it a bit chewy, but the old man was right. It was a hell of a lot better than choking one of those bars down.

After we finished eating, the sheriff banked the fire, reducing the flames to little more than a dull glow of orange coals, and soon enough, I understood why. As the moon rose, shapes appeared in the darkness beyond the shelter, moving silently and stealthily in the night. Beasts of all descriptions slipped out of the grass and moved to the waterhole, ignoring one another as they drank. I saw creatures that looked like round boulders with short, stumpy legs and a long, protruding tongue; things that resembled small, ambulatory trees with clawed hands and muzzles filled with sharp teeth; and one animal that flowed like smoke across the ground, only revealing itself to be a gray cougar-like cat whose fur seeped smoke when it stopped to drink.

“See?” the old man said quietly, gesturing at the sight. “Lot busier come nightfall. That’s why we’re in here.” He rose to his feet. “I’m gonna turn in. You keep watch.”

“All night?” I asked dubiously.

“Nah, just until the chill sets in. Once the beasties stop coming to drink, you can get some rest yourself.”

“Why am I the one on watch?” I asked archly. “Why don’t we split it?”

“One, you’re younger,” he shrugged. “And two, you’re a handler. If one of them beasties gets too close, you can drive it off with your pets, and the rest won’t know we’re here. If I use my shotgun, it’ll bring every creature in a mile running.” He snorted. “Just don’t go bonding any of them unless you know what they are. I don’t care if you can bond a hundred pets, there’s no sense in wasting a bond with something that you’ve got no affinity for.” He hesitated. “Although if you find something really strong, like a plainsstalker, wake me up. I need a temporary pet until we find Parri.”

As soon as the man disappeared into his tent, I summoned my two pets. There was a literal smorgasbord of XP out there, waiting to be farmed, and I didn’t want to miss any of it!

“Wait, John. I have an idea I’ve been playing around with, and I want to test it out. Before you attack anything, can you use your Analyze rune?”

“On what?” I asked curiously.

“It doesn’t matter. Any of them should be fine.”

Shrugging, I pulled out the card and channeled power into it, targeting the smoking cat I’d seen before. The magic lashed out, poured through the beast, then rushed back and appeared as a notification only I could see.

SMOKEREAVER (GREATER)

TYPE: ASH

THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE

“Excellent,” she practically purred. “Can you do it again? On a different one?”

“What are you trying to do, Sara?”

“I’m trying to turn that rune into an ability. I know how it works for your pets and other handlers, but not how it works on non-bonded animals. Can you use it again? Please?”

I powered the rune once more, this time targeting the boulder-like creature.

STONEROLLER (LESSER)

TYPE: EARTH

THREAT LEVEL: LOW

“Got it!” she said excitedly. “Here, take a look at this!”

ABILITY GAINED: IMPROVED ANALYZE

ACTIVE ABILITY

YOU CAN TELL ANY CREATURE’S RANK, TYPE, STATS, THREAT LEVEL, AND SPECIAL ABILITIES BY SIGHT.

YOU CAN TELL ANY HANDLER’S PATHS, PETS, STATS, AND THREAT LEVEL BY SIGHT.

THIS ABILITY REQUIRES AN ARCANIA STAT OF 13 OR HIGHER

“Whoa,” I breathed silently, reading the description. “So, this basically replaces my Analyze rune?”

“It does, yes!” she said happily. “It still takes some energy – which is why it has a minimum arcania requirement – but it’s a lot less than a rune, and you can activate it pretty much at will.”

“Wait,” I thought, my excitement growing, “can you do that for all my runes?”

“No, sorry,” she said regretfully. “Analyze is just very similar to my standard analysis ability, so all I had to do was adapt it. Normally, to analyze something, I send out a pulse of the world’s energy and read the feedback, but here, you have to send out a bit of magic, instead. I’ve been watching you and the sheriff Analyze things enough to decode what the return means, is all. And you shouldn’t completely ignore the Analyze rune; it’s possible that if you rank it up, I’ll be able to get more information from this ability.”

I nodded, then fastened my gaze on one of the walking trees and activated the ability. I felt a small pulse of power ripple out, and immediately, a screen appeared in my vision.

VINEWALKER (LESSER)

TYPE: WOOD

ATTACK: 4 DEFENSE: 5 DAMAGE: 2

SPEED: 12 DODGE: 4 HEAL: 6

SPECIAL ATTACK: TRIPPING ROOTS

THREAT LEVEL: LOW

“That’s amazing,” I noted. “And I can use it whenever I want?”

“Well, no. Like I said, it does require some power, and your arcania limits how much power you can use in a short period of time. Five or six uses is about the same as one rune, so it will reduce the number of runes you can use in combat. A use or three won’t affect anything, though.”

I nodded, then summoned my bloodbeak. The raptor didn’t like to fly at night – it had bad night vision, apparently – but it was perched atop the roof above me, and it could see well enough to make out the creatures below it. At my command, it swooped down at the vinewalker, unleashing its Cutting Breeze attack before landing atop it and ripping at the creature with its hooked beak. The blade of air tore through the monster, severing one of its long arms, but it lashed upward with the other, trying to dislodge my pet. Roots erupted from the ground below it, curling up to about knee height as if straining to reach the bird, but the bloodbeak flapped its wings and soared back to the rooftop, then plunged down again, not using its wind blade but ripping and tearing at the creature with beak and claws. Two attacks later, the vinewalker slumped to the ground, and my bloodbeak winged its way up to its perch to rest.

A moment later, the waterhole exploded as my bonecrusher erupted from it, using its Lunge ability to slam into the stoneroller. The rocky creature retracted its legs into its body as the lizard knocked it over, and the holes sealed shut, making it look like a literal boulder that began to roll away from the lizard. The bonecrusher’s jaws gaped, and its needlelike Power Jet shot out, slamming into the monster’s hide. The spray of water etched the stone but couldn’t pierce it, and I cut the attack off as the stoneroller lumbered back into the grass out of sight.

I shrugged, then had the monster shift its attack to the ash-covered smokereaver. This time, the Power Jet tunneled into the monster’s hide with a loud hiss and a cloud of steam. The smokereaver spun and belched a cloud of glowing sparks that clung to the bonecrusher, burning its scales, but I sent the beast back into the water to douse the cinders. Another Power Jet shot from it and tore into the smokereaver, who turned to flee. The bonecrusher leaped forward, activating Lunge once more, and its teeth crunched on the reaver’s rear leg, severing it at its knee-like ankle. The smokereaver screamed in pain, but its cry died to a gurgle as the bonecrusher’s jaws clamped around its throat. The cat’s claws scratched down my pet’s flank, but its bond protected it from the mundane attack, leaving it unharmed. A moment later, the cat fell still, and the bonecrusher dragged its body away to feast.

“That was a Greater beast, Sara,” I said thoughtfully. “Why was it so easy for the bonecrusher to kill?”

“The bonecrusher is bonded, John. Not only does that make it harder to hurt, it also boosts all its stats and the strength of its abilities. The higher your stats, the bigger the boost: dominia improves its defense and dodge scores, personia boosts its attack and damage, and arcania improves its special abilities and how quickly it recovers the use of them. With your stats, it’s about twice as strong as a similarly ranked, unbonded beast.”

“Well, that should make this easier,” I grinned. The rest few hours passed in something of a bloodbath. As creatures approached the waterhole, I Analyzed them with my new ability, and if they had a moderate threat level or less, I sent my pets after them. I tried to let each pet kill its own prey, but for some of the stronger ones, they had to work together. I held off on using any runes to aid them, unsure what might give our presence away. A few times, I pulled them back when a monster turned out to be more dangerous than I thought or harder to damage, but for the most part, they shredded the creatures they attacked without too much difficulty.

The scent of blood and death filled the air, and that drew in new predators, larger and more dangerous ones. The Simple and Lesser beasts dwindled away, and more Greater ones appeared, lured by the smell of meat. I had to make my pets work together to deal with those, and as their special abilities started to lose their punch, I began to hold them back, allowing monsters to come feed for a bit to let my pets recharge their batteries.

The moon crept overhead, and as it did, the night’s chill spread throughout the air. Fewer and fewer animals appeared, and the ones that did showed higher threat levels, too high for me to risk my pets against them. The chill also affected my bonded animals; both of them grew sleepy and lethargic, and I realized that it was time to let them rest. I bult the fire back up again, then called them both in to relax in the warmth. The bloodbeak simply perched on the roof above the fire, while the bonecrusher gratefully curled up around the blaze.

I watched the darkness for a few minutes, staring out into the night with an odd sense of déjà vu. I’d done this same thing on both Kuan and Soluminos, sitting alone at night and gazing at the moon and stars. In Kuan Yang, I’d been cultivating, drawing energy from those celestial bodies, while in Soluminos, I’d been standing watch while Renica and Vikarik slept, but the parallel was unmistakable.

“I wonder how many other moons I’ll sit beneath like this,” I thought quietly, an odd feeling of melancholy settling over me.

Sara appeared beside me, also gazing up at the sky. “I don’t know, John,” she admitted. “There’s no way to really say.”

“Well, there has to be a limit,” I laughed. “Eventually, I’ll die of old age, if nothing else.”

“Yes, you will,” she shrugged. “How long that takes, though, is entirely up to you.”

“Up to me? What do you mean, it’s up to me?”

“I told you: you form a new body in each world based on your self-image. Old Inquisitors are old because they think they are, and their body reflects that. So long as you feel like you’re young, your body will be, too.”

I just looked at her, stunned by what she’d said. “Wait – so, I’m immortal?”

“No, John. Immortals like Menogra can’t die. You can, and eventually, you will. Your mind will age, even if your body doesn’t. No matter how hard you try, you’ll find your new bodies getting older and older, and one day, you’ll die. It happens to every Inquisitor.”

“Menogra said that I could become an immortal by cultivating, though.”

“Yes, you could gain an immortal body that wouldn’t age or die. You can probably do something like that on any world if you understand its energies deeply enough. Even so, your mind will continue to age, and if you ever leave that world, you’ll step into a new, mortal body – and that will be it.”

I looked away from her and stared at the stars again. I wasn’t exactly a stranger to facing my own mortality – I’d come within a hair of it a dozen or more times, half of which were since I entered the Doorworld – but I’d never really thought about the fact that I’d grow old. Somehow, I’d thought that entering the Doorverse had fixed that; if I grew old, I could just enter another Doorworld, and bam! New, young body, healed of all its aches and pains. Apparently, that wasn’t the case. I still had a shelf life, just as I always had.

“It’s not that bad, John,” Sara said reassuringly. “Inquisitors usually live for centuries; some have lasted for millennia. That’s a lot longer than you’d have gotten on your world, isn’t it?” She smiled at me. “Besides, no matter where you go or what happens, I’ll be right there with you. You may look at a thousand moons, but you’ll always have someone to watch them with you. Could you say that in your old life?”

“No,” I admitted, smiling at her. “No, I couldn’t. And you’re right; I’ll have a lot more years than I would have back on Earth – assuming, of course, that something doesn’t kill me, first.”

“Well, yes, but I wasn’t going to mention that,” she laughed.

I banked the fire, then rose to my feet. “That’s enough feeling sorry for myself, I think. Time for bed; things will look better in the morning.”

I turned to head toward my tent, but before I took a step, I felt a thrill of territorial rage flood my bloodbeak. I looked around, my hand dropping to the revolver at my hip, then froze as a man stepped out of the grass. He was a bit taller than me, dressed in a long coat of a dark color I couldn’t make out in the moonlight. He had a wide-brimmed hat pulled low, and a scarf of some sort covered the lower half of his face. A rifle rested in his hands, the stock against his shoulder but the barrel pointed toward the ground.

I walked slowly away from the fire, unsure how well he could see me, and pulled my rifle from its holster on the roadwalker. I knelt down in case the man couldn’t see me and decided to fire blindly, then lifted the rifle and sighted on his chest. As I did, the grass beside him rustled, and another man emerged from it, similarly dressed and armed. One by one, ten people stepped out of the grass all around us, each armed and each with their face hidden. I supposed that could have been protection against the cold, but somehow, I seriously doubted it.

The grass shifted once more, and suddenly, a much larger shape slipped out of it, slithering forward in a serpentine fashion. The creature’s head rose, swaying in the air as it stretched up taller than the surrounding people, its scales gleaming and shining in the moonlight. The massive snake slithered over to the first man and coiled before him, its head pointed toward us and its silvery tongue flickering in the light.

“Evening,” the man who was obviously a handler called out. “How about you folks come out of there, and we’ll talk a spell – and maybe see what you’re carrying that really belongs to us.”