Tr'ond?k, Canada

  Razan followed a thin game trail up the foot of a mountain. The climb was rather steep, but thankfully it wasn't too far. According to Peter’s calculations, they’d only have to climb for half an hour before they reached as high as they were going to get and started back down again.

  Meanwhile, Razan watched the animal tracks he was following and hoped they wouldn't find their maker. The split hoofprints were as big as his hand.

  “Can you see anyone around us yet?” Marie asked Sophie.

  “No, but I think I know why,” Sophie said slowly. “Remember when we were on the boat, and Nop said there was something to make us invisible? I believe they have that around us here, too. Because I know where they ought to be, but there’s no people there.”

  Razan looked back at her as Marie agreed that was likely. He couldn't help wondering why she regularly called herself dumb and silly when she figured things out faster than anyone else.

  “If we can't see them, that means they can't see us, right?” Peter asked. “So at least we know sending a bunch of snow and rock our way was an accident.”

  “Probably,” Marie said. “They might have guessed where we were by watching the hawks.”

  “Would someone do that?” Sophie asked. “Try to bail a group without knowing which group it is?”

  “Bees would,” Razan said. “Masks might.”

  “Aye, there’s a few who would happily inconvenience any other group,” Marie said. “Hell, I’d do it, if it was little inconvenience to myself and there were no repercussions.”

  Razan nodded in agreement.

  “I’d feel bad, but yeah, I’d bail an anonymous group,” Peter decided with a shrug.

  Sophie debated the problem, then shook her head. “I’d prefer knowing who it was. I only steal from people I have opinions about. Taking something from someone without knowing anything about them feels wrong.”

  “What about when you stole a book from the Masks?” Marie asked.

  “I knew they weren't particularly liked by anyone, and they aren't a social group,” Sophie answered. “That’s enough.”

  Razan smiled, moving around a particularly large tree, then froze. Standing on the trail was the biggest animal Razan had ever seen.

  From the pictures, he recognized it as a moose. This information did not help as it turned its massive head to stare at him.

  “Demon horse,” Peter whispered, peering around the tree.

  Marie took a few steps, ending just ahead of Razan. She glared at it. “I'm sorry, but you are in our way. Move,” she commanded.

  The moose turned towards her, thoughtfully chewing on a branch.

  “Go away,” she ordered.

  It took a single step, then stopped, reaching to chew on a bush.

  Marie frowned. “Well, it’s not attacking, so it should be safe to walk around.” She started walking.

  Peter shot out and grabbed her arm. “Captain, sorry, but you don't walk behind an unknown hoofed animal unless you’re wanting to get kicked. Stay where it can see you.”

  “Walking in front of it will put us in range of its teeth,” Razan pointed out.

  Behind them, Sophie giggled. “Then we’ll have to go under it.”

  They all looked at her. She grinned.

  “Samurai-” Marie stopped, looking at him. “Razan, take her hand and don't let go until we’re well past this beast.”

  He bowed, then grabbed Sophie as she tried to run away. She loudly complained that she wasn't planning to do anything dangerous, and she was aware going under the moose was a bad idea, struggling to dislodge him. Razan held on, almost laughing as she pulled him back and forth on the tiny trail.

  The moose apparently decided this was far too much commotion, and shook its head like a dog before lumbering away through the trees. The comparatively small humans all froze until it was out of sight.

  “Well done, thief,” Marie said with a smirk, starting to walk down the trail again. “I knew you could chase it off.”

  “Almost chased me off, too,” Peter said under his breath, following Marie.

  Sophie had sulked at Marie’s comment, but Peter made her flinch. This made Razan want to punch him.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered to Razan. “I shouldn't have fought you.”

  Razan moved in front of her and tilted her chin up until she was forced to meet his eyes. “You should always fight me. Please don't ever think otherwise.”

  After a moment of almost crying she gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, if you insist.”

  He pressed his lips against hers, but quickly stepped back. Still holding her hand, Razan hurried to catch up to the others.

  On their way back down the mountain they crossed a tiny trickle of a waterfall. Marie was relieved when they found it; the map had marked it as a small stream, and she’d been worried about having to jump across something on a sharp incline.

  They didn't come across any other animals, only tracks and droppings. Marie didn't recognize any of them. Peter and Razan froze at what they said was a bear print, though.

  Finally, as the mountain was leveling out into a slight hill, Nop appeared and announced it was time for lunch.

  “May we have lunch by the first stream we crossed?” Sophie asked.

  “Why?” Nop asked.

  Marie stopped Sophie. “I don't like the idea of eating surrounded by trees with bears and moose around. That stream had good visibility.”

  Razan nodded. “Food smells here would attract animals.”

  “Taking you there and back would cost two credits each,” Nop said.

  Marie raised an eyebrow at Peter.

  “That’s affordable,” he decided. “I wouldn't mind that cost for a better nap spot.”

  Nop nodded, and with a blue flash they landed at the edge of the gold-filled stream. Another flash brought them bottles of thick, hot soup.

  “How long do we have?” Sophie asked eagerly.

  “Now? Twenty-nine minutes,” Nop reported.

  The thief nodded, immediately turning towards the river. Marie caught the end of her braid and tugged her back.

  “Eat first.”

  They sat down around the bottles and drank. The soup was a bit bland to Marie’s taste, but with her sense of smell gone, most foods weren't overly flavorful to her. The texture was good, though, and it settled nicely in her stomach.

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  After finishing a bottle, Peter got up and walked a few paces away. Before Marie could ask what he was doing, he reached down and pulled up a plant. A big, oval root came up, shedding dark dirt.

  He held it up, smiling. “Onion.” And then he bit into it, dirt and all.

  Marie was glad at least that Sophie and Razan were looking as horrified as she felt. Peter sat down again, happily munching through his onion like an apple.

  “Is there a particular reason why you didn't rinse it off first?” Razan asked, turning his face neutral.

  Peter shrugged. “This is how I ate ‘em as a kid.”

  Marie dearly wanted to ask how starved he’d been. How much he’d needed food to immediately eat anything even halfway edible. But he was genuinely enjoying the thing; she couldn't bring herself to interrupt.

  “I’m… going to the water,” Sophie decided, and hurried away from him.

  Marie finished her soup off and stood. “Aye, same.”

  Peter was mildly offended. “You’ve never had an onion before?”

  “On its own? No,” Razan answered as Marie followed Sophie.

  The thief had left her boots and socks at the edge of the water. She waded through the cold stream, collecting pebbles.

  Marie knew her boots were supposed to be waterproof, and decided to test this. After taking her coat off and rolling her sleeves up to above her elbows, she stepped into the stream.

  “What are you planning to do with the gold?” Marie asked, seeing flashes of metal now that she was facing down into the water. She bent to pick one up.

  Sophie looked at her, confused. “Do?”

  “Aye, do you plan to melt it into a ring or something?”

  The girl’s eyes went wide. “I can do that?”

  Marie smiled, lifting a fleck of gold. “What’s to stop you?”

  “Nothing,” Sophie said in an awed voice. She jolted, moving quicker. “That means I need to collect as much as possible.”

  “It does, yes.” Marie scooped a handful of mud out of the stream and picked through it.

  Most of the gold was in tiny specks, barely worth anything. Still, it was gold. Her soul insisted it was valuable, and ought to be collected. She scooped up another handful of mud and went through it.

  “Look at this one,” Sophie called, splashing over. A lump the size of a thumbnail was on her palm. “This one by itself might be enough to make a very thin ring.”

  Marie nodded, picking it up. “Aye, it might be. It…” She stopped, an idea suddenly coming to her. “Sophie, would you mind if I kept this one? I'll give you all the smaller pieces I find.”

  “Certainly,” the girl said, smiling. “What will you do with it?”

  “I’ll use it as a ring,” Marie answered absently, dropping it into a pocket.

  “I’ll let you know if I find a better piece, then,” Sophie promised, pouncing on another piece of gold.

  “Thank you.”

  They fell quiet, focused on pulling gold from the stream. After a few minutes Razan came to the water’s edge and squatted down to look through the dirt.

  Marie watched him suspiciously, washing the goldless mud from her hands. “I would leave to close my eyes for a moment, but I don't trust that one or the other of you would end our break sopping wet.”

  “I would never trip Sophie into the water,” Razan lied.

  Sophie glared at him. “And I wouldn't retaliate by dragging you down with me.”

  They looked at each other challengingly.

  “Play nice,” Marie ordered, leaving the stream.

  Her boots had done an excellent job of keeping her feet dry. This made her happy as she picked up her coat and went back to where Peter was finishing off another onion.

  “Grace won't be kissing you tonight,” she warned, folding her coat into a pillow.

  “It- She- We-” He stopped. “I know. But how often do you get the opportunity to eat vegetables straight out of the ground like this?”

  Marie raised an eyebrow at him. “A better question would be, how often have I been hungry enough to want to?” She stretched out on the ground, pulling her sleeves down before lacing her fingers behind her head.

  He looked at the half-eaten onion. “That is a good question,” he admitted. Then his eyes turned to her arms. “Captain, can I ask… Are those scars on your arms some kind of tally?”

  “You may ask,” she said, then sighed, stretching her arms above her. She pulled her sleeves down again, looking critically at the marks that covered them. “Not as such.”

  Peter hesitated, then pressed on. “At first I thought they were all from fighting, but they’re too parallel, and on the inside of your arm. You have to have made them. I’ve heard of people marking themselves for kills or milestones, and thought they might be that.”

  “Nothing so exciting,” Marie said, keeping her tone calm and soft.

  There was silence for a moment, and then a moment more. Marie made herself comfortable again.

  “Then why?” Peter eventually asked.

  “Because I know how to fix physical pain. The pain of having someone you love die can't really be fixed. I gave myself physical pain just to have something I knew how to deal with.”

  He stared at the multitude of scars. “Who?”

  Marie smiled faintly. “Their names would mean nothing to you, lad.”

  “Oh, sorry, I shouldn't have asked,” the cowboy said with a wince.

  “I don't mind you asking, just know I don't have to answer,” Marie told him. She sighed, closing her eyes. “Just like you don't have to answer when I ask how your parents died.”

  There was a long silence, during which a soft breeze cooled her sun-warmed skin. Birds called to each other, and the stream sang in the background.

  “I’d like you to guess,” Peter finally said. His voice had an odd, rebellious note in it.

  Marie raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve never told anyone they’re… But somehow you know. How do you know? Do you just know everything?”

  “It’s in the way you talk about them,” Marie said. “You rarely bring them up; when you do it’s usually a happy memory, but it takes only a moment before you flinch and move on. You’ve made it too obvious that there’s something there you don’t want to talk about.” She sat up, turning fully towards him. “Stop flinching, stay calm, and people won’t notice that you’ve dragged their minds away from questions you really don’t want them to ask.”

  Peter almost spoke, but stopped, watching her pull her sleeves down over her arms again.

  “Do you still want me to guess?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Why not.”

  “Yellow fever.”

  “Finally. You’re way off.”

  She frowned. “Not some kind of fever?”

  “Nope.”

  Marie laid down again. “This might be difficult…”

  Sophie’s trouser pockets were weighed down with gold. She hadn't found a great deal of it, so she was surprised at how heavy it was. Her belt was being stretched out, the tightly-woven fabric doing its best to stay above her hips.

  They’d crossed another stream, this time on a fallen tree which had made a serviceable bridge. It had been safer than the bridge in the pyramid, at least. Now they were out of the forest and walking quickly through flower-filled grassland. There was a hill ahead of them, but nothing too vertical.

  Sophie pulled her belt up, wondering if she should tighten it. If she had to run or jump, it might fall completely off.

  “Something wrong with your trousers?” Marie asked, watching her.

  “No, I just have too much weight in the pockets,” Sophie said. “The gold is pulling everything down.”

  “Why didn’t you put it in your backpack?” Peter asked.

  “Because I… hadn't thought of it,” Sophie admitted, feeling her cheeks turn red. She stopped, reaching for her backpack.

  “Wait another half-hour,” Marie said. “Or until we reach a point where we need to stop.”

  “Or not at all,” Razan suggested. “I’ve been enjoying watching your belt slide lower and lower on your hips…”

  Sophie glared at him. He grinned.

  “Samurai, there is a time and place for all things,” Marie said. “This is not the place for that.”

  “Yes, Captain,” he said with a bow. “Forgive me.”

  Sophie crossed her arms, turning her nose up with a huff. Since she wasn't looking where she was going, her foot caught in a knot of long grass, and she tripped to her hands and knees with a yelp. Something scaly slithered away from her hand.

  Before anyone could offer to help, Sophie was on her feet again and several yards away from the snake. She dusted her hands off, shuddering.

  “You all right, thief?” Marie asked.

  “Snake,” Sophie replied eloquently, then pulled her belt up again.

  “What type?” Peter asked with interest, looking into the grass.

  “An evil one,” Sophie answered.

  “That doesn't narrow it down,” Marie said as they all started walking again.

  “Was it brown or red?” Peter asked. “With stripes or spots?”

  “Brown? I don't know, you may have noticed I didn't stay to ask for its calling card,” Sophie said.

  “I’m just tryin’ to see if it’s venomous,” he said with a shrug.

  “I doubt it matters,” Marie said, then paused, frowning at Peter. “Snake bites.”

  He smiled. “Wrong again.”

  “Wrong about what?” Sophie asked.

  “To prove I don't know everything, Peter has said I’ll never guess how his neighbors died,” Marie explained. “So far, he is correct.”

  “Any clues?” Razan asked.

  “Nope, just what she’s already guessed,” Peter said.

  “And I’ve guessed quite a lot of things,” Marie added.

  “Was it something unique?” Razan asked, immediately interested.

  “Nope, it ain't.”

  Sophie only half-listened to the guesses Razan and Marie started throwing out, instead focusing on something ahead of them. She hadn't brought her spyglass to this contest, but now wished she had.

  On the other side of the hill, filling the valley, there were at least a hundred giant… somethings. They were still too far away for her to see clearly, but they looked deer-shaped with brown heads and tan bodies. Slightly more importantly, they were all walking in her direction.

  “Captain?” Sophie called, not taking her eyes off the deer things. “What should we do?”

  Marie finally looked ahead, stopping next to Sophie. “Hmm.”