Driven by my Moon, curiosity and the sudden, desperate desire to distract myself, I did what I should not have. I went to the door.

Dragging it open just enough to get a decent view, I peered through the crack.

“Hello,” said Thors. “That is a very nice face…thing…you have there.”

“Er, thanks,” I managed, trying not to breathe too much. “What’s up?”

The Jasper shifted his stance, almost awkwardly, wings flexing behind him.

“I found these,” he said, bringing up his right hand and opening it to reveal the little crystalline shells from my first ever meal in this world. The ones I’d taken out of my pocket earlier and promptly forgotten by the poolside. “Did you…leave them out for me?”

“Oh! No, that was a…a—” I turned my head, taking a somewhat deeper breath of the fresh air flowing in behind me. “An accident. Here, I’ll take them.”

Thors’ ears fell a bit, and the look on his face read to me as a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

“Oh, sorry,” I said in a rush. “Did you want them? You can have them.”

The other kobold’s tail lashed through the air twice, quickly, and then stopped.

“What? No, no! I mean. I wouldn’t mind, under other circumstances, but—”

My stomach clenched up.

“Wait, do these—does giving these shells to someone have some kind of—”

I turned to take a fresh breath again. “Does it mean something?”

Thor’s tail dropped low, matching his ears as he took a step back and smacked his forehead with the palm of his free hand. The other one closed around the shells, dropping to his side.

“Ah, your memories! I’d almost forgot. I think your scent is getting to me. This was foolish. I am sorry for disturbing you. I will go to my own chambers now.”

And before I could get another word out, he turned and rushed off—launching into the air a moment later to land on the ledge over my head. I heard the hasty opening and closing of a door, and then nothing. Impulsively, guiltily, I took a deep breath, but didn’t turn. Thor’s scent filled my nostrils, my lungs—filtered through and mingled with my own aroma of seasalt and sweet herbs in a way that was almost worse than his smell by itself.

The next thing I knew, I was shoving my way through the door, scrambling for the ladder that led up to the second level. But there was a pressure on my hand, a slight but insistent force yanking me back. I twisted my head around to find Keshry staring up at me.

“I do not think you want to do to that,” she said, pulling on my hand again.

“Y-you’re right,” I breathed, focusing on how tiny and fragile-looking she was as I fought the urge to yank my hand from her hold.

“Come with me,” I managed with the next breath, pulling my foot from the ladder’s first rung and drawing her back toward my room. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“Oh, Ashri-an, I think you are very pretty. But you are under an influence, and we’ve only just—”

“Not that!” I hissed, tugging her along by her own grip on my hand.

“I’ve found something out,” I explained as we reached my door, lowering my voice to a hush. “Something big.”

That’s when I remembered Seri’s list, and realized I should probably go over it before confiding anything further in Keshry—or anyone else for that matter.

“Actually, nevermind,” I amended hastily, coming to a halt.

Keshry blinked.

“Hm? What is wrong?”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Nothing, I think…I’m just kinda about to lose control, and I need to be alone again,” I improvised.

“But what—”

“Oh, by the way, what does it mean when you give someone little crystal clam shells?”

Hopefully, my question would distract her from her own. She tilted her head.

“Peshiri shells, you mean? With the swirls?”

I nodded.

“Ah. That means you want to mate with them.”

My stomach churned with sudden embarrassment even as other parts of me felt very different, even more distracting things. The nsfw mind-wallpaper brightened.

“Damnit…of course it does.”

And he said he wouldn’t mi…nope. Don’t think about that.

“Ok, thank you, Keshry. I need to shut myself away from the rest of existence now. Perhaps forever.”

“Damnit? What does—”

“Later,” I said, prying myself gently free of her hold and practically catapulting myself back into the sanctuary of my temporary quarters.

With the door safely shut between us, I returned to my letter and list. Returned to the absolutely overwhelming emotions they instilled in me.

I completed my reread. And then I just sat there for a while as the full implications of the message sank in. The responsibility of it, the pressure.

The challenge.

My blood ran hot at the thought. I was terrified, and perhaps…perhaps also even a little exhilarated. But I knew well that the thrill running down my spine was just my stupid side at work.

Setting aside the letter, I took up the list of Pathmakers. Before giving it a careful read-through, I scanned it for names I recognized.

The first I found was Reve of Clan Soltras.

Reve, the Golden One, the skyborn now-Topaz jerk who’d loved my sister.

Of course.

The next name I noticed took a moment to place.

Shoshio of Clan Sadras

Shoshio…where have I…oh right! That was her friend in the other journal who didn’t pick up her calls. And Sadra…

That was Keshry’s clan name.

Oh, shit.

What if they’re related? What if Keshry’s a Pathmaker Other Zia didn’t know about?

Suddenly the room felt very, very cold around me, though still it was like my veins were on fire with revelation and panic.

Shit shit shit.

Forcing myself to focus, I read through the list again. There were several more clan names I recognized…including Khural. Chieftain Tuvimak of Clan Khural, to be exact. There were also a few members with one clan name which I, though I knew I recognized it, couldn’t quite place for the second life of me. Trassek. There were quite a lot of Trasseks, actually, and of course a great deal of Soltras.

I set the list down, pushing back the onslaught of an entirely new intrusive thought.

You can’t trust anyone. Can’t confide anything else to anyone. Not yet.

It was the last thing I wanted, to be alone in this. But it was partly because I did want it so much that I absolutely could not trust my immediate instinct to divulge everything I’d learned to the Jade. I had to wait, to be sure.

Realizing I hadn’t finished reading the green journal, I picked it up once more and flipped through until I found the spot where I’d left off. There were some more drawings, done in the same scratchy, loose hand that Other Zia’s writing took on when she was upset. Many of the drawings were of Erek…I think. Others were of what looked like some kind of fortress—an angular, almost brutalist structure thrusting outward from the side of a sheer cliff, a beautiful and wildly intricate design half-drawn on its forward-facing side.

And then, finally, there was another entry. Kind of.

Day 14, Opal Moon, 1236

I’ve convinced Erek to write a message for me here to read when I get home. That way, I will have something to look forward to, and his words will be with me always.

The following passage was written in a precise and rigid hand.

Dear Zia,

You are a skilled and intelligent person in a way which is unique to you, and knowing you has been a fascinating adventure. I will carry my memories of our time together with me always. I wish you the best of fortune in your future years.

-Erek of Clan of Odros

By the next and final entry of the journal, The chicken-scratch text had returned. And so had the tear-drop smears in the ink.

Day 16, Opal Moon, 1236

I really think the message Erek left me is a goodbye. Like he doesn’t want anything to do with me, going forward. I know how carefully he words things. I know how he words things.

But I hope to the stars I’m wrong.

Oh. Oh no.

Thoroughly drained and somewhere on the border between depressed and panicked, I curled up on the moss bed and just kind of stared. Wishing I’d fall asleep. Eventually Keshry knocked on the door to let me know that more food and drink had been brought in, and I rushed out to get some—passing Erek on the way. His arms full of food and his eyes on the floor, he practically sprinted past me before shutting himself in his room again.

Once I had my own meal, I did pretty much the same thing.

There was comfort, at least, in the kobolds’ spectacular and fascinating cuisine. But it was brief. When my dinner was gone, I returned once again to the cushion of the moss-scoop. And this time—finally giving in to my annoyance with the thing—I removed my face-scarf and very quickly fell asleep.

I dreamt of Thors, his scent calling to me like the most intoxicating of songs. I dreamt of leaving my room and climbing the ladder to the second level. Of standing before his door and reaching out to open it, that song of a scent thrilling through me with every breath.

And then the lighting changed, and the world shifted, and I was falling through the air.