“Um,” I glanced around, pressing my back closer to the wall. “Where are we going to—”

Before I could even finish my question, Errez yanked his goggles down over his eyes, revealing sigil-etched lenses of deep blue crystal. Snatching my left hand up in his, he squeezed, hard, until it felt like static electricity was crackling through my veins.

“Were you trying to break into places you’re not allowed? Steal things?”

“No!”

The elder kobold sniffed and twitched his braided mustache.

“And what were you really doing?”

“Looking for someplace to pee.”

Dropping my hand, Erres met Thors’ expectant gaze. The electric tingling sensation vanished.

“Truth,” he said, shrugging and pushing his goggles back to his forehead. Then, turning from both of us, he loped off after all the others.

“Aren’t you going to ask about my memories?” I called, trailing a ways behind him. But the Truthseer just flapped a hand dismissively over his shoulder.

“No time. They never make enough eel pies!”

I stood in his wake and sputtered, unsure of what to do next. Half relieved, half annoyed.

“You…really don’t remember anything, do you?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I found Thors looking at me almost like he was seeing me properly for the first time, his spear lax in his grip.

“You’re only just now realizing this?”

“I assumed it was some kind of weird game to you. You are Two-Face Zia, after all.”

“I have a moniker? Wait, don’t answer that.”

“Oh.” Thors’ perked ears and tail drooped. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure! And our deal is at an end, by the way. If I ask any more questions going forward, you can answer them or not as you choose, but I’m not promising you any more Favor until I understand more about it.”

“Very well,” grumbled Thors. “How did you lose your memory, anyway?”

I scoffed, quite convincingly, I think. “No idea. First thing I remember is the moment right before I ripped my palm open in that ritual. What was I supposed to do, by the way? Just standing there didn’t seem to be accomplishing much.”

“You ripped your hand open in the Rite of the First?”

“Um, yeah? Didn’t you see?”

“I was patrolling the corridors.”

I frowned up at him. His ears twitched forward again.

“You’re not going to answer my question unless I offer to pay you more, are you?”

His nostrils flared, which read to me as affront. But I could swear there was a little shame in those puppy-dog eyes, too.

“You’re just supposed to push your hand to the point enough for it to hurt,” he acceded finally. “To create a burst of power that activates your ability to fuse Gems.”

“Huh,” I said. “Well, my way seemed to do the trick.”

Thors laughed, continuing down the hall in the same direction as all the rest had gone. I hurried to keep up with him.

“So what is this I hear about a feast?” I pressed, the mentions of food having triggered a realization that I was absolutely ravenous.

“You don’t know what a feast is? Well, if you like food, you’re in for a treat. You know what a treat is, right?”

I curled my nose.

“Jerk. Don’t you have a patrol to get back to?”

But the bigger kobold just chuckled some more. It was a pleasant sound, honestly.

“It ended a while ago,” he said.

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Given his mood, I was on the verge of further testing my luck with the free questions when we came to a stairway. It was a long one, leading up a channel cut through a solid expanse of stone.

“Are we inside of a mountain? High up?”

Thors smiled.

“Just wait and see.”

Oh no.

The instant he shoved open the door at the top of the stair, my worst fears were confirmed.

Before I could even see what lay beyond, I scented how high up we were. Could smell the ozone and the cold air, taste how little oxygen there was. Thors held the door open for me as I grudgingly stepped out into the open, wrapping my arms about myself and wondering why I wasn’t wearing something more substantial.

The view snatched my breath and thoughts away on impact.

It was nighttime, out in the world. But though the moon was shrouded beneath a thick swathe of clouds, my new eyesight didn’t disappoint. I could see everything, and I could see far. We stood on a broad, multi-level series of platforms and ledges carved into the heights of a mountain peak. Higher up even than I’d feared. To the left of where we stood on the lowest tier—beyond a short expanse of level stone—the land stretched away beneath us. All jagged hills, blue brush, shadowed swathes of forest, and glittering black mountains. Gorgeous and stark and terrifying.

I wavered on the spot, stomach churning, and looked right instead.

There I could see only kobolds, gnarled trees growing from stone pots, stairways and walls of raw mountain rock, and then more kobolds…repeated again and again like a very unusual layer cake. A number of the others were eating already, overflowing bowls of a sparkly black material clutched in their claws. And there wasn’t a single railing or safety feature in sight, because of course there wasn’t.

Unless—

Instead of wedging myself into the relative safety of the nearest cluster of kobolds, I edged toward the bit of open ledge, peering down into what I’d initially taken for deep scratches in the rock.

But no, there were sigils etched there, gem chips wedged in their curves and corners. Again, they gave off strong impressions rather than direct translations. Barrier, crossing, able skyborn only, intentional only.

Iiinteresting.

Even though I could hear and smell the cold tumult of the wind and see its dramatic effect on the landscape, I felt it as a chill but mild breeze, my fur only lightly stirred in its passing. The stone beneath our feet was warm, counteracting the nip of the mountain air, but radiated far less heat than those of the depths we’d come from

“The food is this way,” said Thors from somewhere just over my shoulder, making me jump. It was so damned loud out there and full of scents, with all the laughter, chatter, and blowing winds, that I hadn’t even sensed his approach. Parting the crowd for us, he lead me up the first open set of stairs and across the next tier toward another. Other kobolds stared as we passed, some eyes lingering longer on Thors, and others on me. A few whispered behind their four-fingered hands.

I was just taking my first step onto the next flight of stairs, trailing about a pace behind my unofficial guide, when someone bumped into me, hard, from behind.

“Watch it, groundling!”

I whipped around to find a winged kobold—a skyborn, I presume—hunching down over me to snarl directly into my face. His glyphs came up at once.

3Gem Diamond

Summon Fire

Blazing Aura

A spark of rage ignited from somewhere deep within me, followed immediately by an almost overwhelming urge to hiss and rip and tear. A reaction unlike anything I’d experienced as a human. A reaction that wasn’t me. Perhaps it was kobold instincts, or perhaps some echo of my other self’s original personality.

I fought it back, along with my own contradicting and very me instinct to flee the situation as quickly as possible. Maybe it was all the shows about prison, or maybe it was the nature documentaries. But something told me it was best not to cower in this situation. Not to show weakness.

Grinding my teeth together, I squared my stance, straightened my back, and looked the ugly banana-yellow kobold straight in his ugly eyes.

“You bumped into me. Care to apologize?”

My heart was racing as I said it. If I were in my old body, my pits’d be soaked in sweat already. My tail-tip twitched frantically. I hated conflict. Or at least…I thought I did.

Banana-boy growled, his own tail beating at the stone as his wings flared out behind him.

“You really are delusional,” he sneered, lowering his voice as he leant still closer. “Almost like you think you’ve got wings.”

“I don’t need wings to know who did what,” I sniffed, turning to continue upward. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have food to—“

Pain bloomed across my left hip, sharp where nails dug into the flesh near my belly and at my lower back, aching where the palm and fingers clenched about my side. Fixing me in place. The next thing I knew, the fluorescent menace was standing directly behind me, just a hair’s breadth from pressing up against my back and butt, my tail caught between his legs as he nudged his snout right up against my ear.

“You better hope they don’t place you with us,” he hissed.

I struggled to free myself from his grip, but he only dug his claws in deeper.

“What is this?”

We both froze as a hearty voice issued from just above us.

Thors had turned back, his tone and expression one of unwavering authority. This time, it sounded absolutely genuine.

“None of your business, Khural,” replied the aggressor, voice gravelly and threatening. But I could smell that his harsh bravado had become a facade. He was sour with the lie of it.

“Ah, but I’ve decided that it is,” said Thors amiably, taking another step down toward us.

Banana-guy growled some more and then released me, whipping around and shoving off through the crowd. Losing my balance at the sudden return to freedom, I rocked backward, yelped, and began to fall.

The breath huffed out of me as I came to a sudden stop mid-air, caught hold of yet again. But this time the hand that took me was gentle, its owner careful not to claw my skin or squeeze too hard. It was Thors, of course, his tail swooshing happily behind him as he steadied me, only letting go when he was sure I’d regained my footing.

“What in the Deep Places was that?” I demanded, gesturing at the fleeing kobold jerk. “Is it me, or was he absolutely terrified of you?”

Thors grinned.

“Of course he is.”

“Who are you? Really?”

“Thors of Clan Khural,” he said. “I told you. And Erres-anz was right. If we don’t hurry, all of the good food will be gone.”