Nass passed the signpost at the crossroads, shivering like a crazy person, and finally entered the Lyerateh forest.

Flanked by Niss and the two pink-skins, he trudged at a small incline past oak and larch trees, eventually reaching a small shrine to Vifafey atop the hill. He passed that as well without a moment of pause, and, gazing at the dull gray sky overhead, he smiled. He could already hear the two pink-skin clerics muttering complaints under their breath.

“Slow down!” they would soon be calling. “Wait for us, just a quick prayer!”

He wouldn’t give them any time. He’d just keep on walking, and—

“Smiling?” Niss asked. She leaned forward and peeked at him from his side, mimicking his steps. “Must be the first time in a tenday.”

Nass snorted. He hadn’t meant to get caught. “You’re right, Niss,” he said. “What was I thinking? I should be upset—we are being followed by pink-skins, after all. And we’re headed to a pink-skin town, and a holy place to the bigot god, at that.”

Niss frowned. “And, just like that, the smile is upside down again. I didn’t mean to scold you.”

“I know.”

“Then... can you rotate that frown again? Seeing you smile makes me smile.”

Nass shook his head. “It wouldn’t fit the mood. Gloomy and moody suits this place far better.”

“No, it doesn’t. So, what were you smiling about before?”

“The thought of leaving you behind, striking out on my own, finding a quiet place … Maybe even a piece of a god in some random cave somewhere.”

Niss rolled her eyes at him, then turned around and started walking backward, looking at the two pink-skin clerics behind them and nodding at the male one. Nass grimaced and started watching where she was going, making sure she wouldn’t trip.

“I think it’s more likely we’ll find the shard in a temple,” Niss said. “Most gods want their things to be found, remember? Why else would they leave them lying around? So, it probably already has been found.”

Nass grunted.

“Maybe they’re bored up there, if they really are in the clouds. They just want to mess with things and see what happens.”

“Oh? Is that blasphemy? Coming from you, Niss?”

“No, of course not. I love our lord Gromph will all my heart. He would never do such things. I’m just talking about the other gods.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Ha. You mean Chi’orat, then, and his giant, spiky, mind-controlling worm monsters that he uses to rescue us goblins?”

“Yup. Hey, um … Nass … Back then, you never really told me what happened to Scypha.”

Nass abruptly stopped and thrust a hand in front of Niss, halting her mid-step before she could hit the back of her foot on a stray root and trip over herself.

Walking backward on dirt roads truly could be perilous to one’s ego.

Niss looked at him briefly, mouthed a ‘thank you’, and turned back around, walking beside him normally.

“So?” she asked.

“I did tell you what happened to her,” Nass said. “Here, I’ll tell you again—she died.”

Niss frowned, went behind him and grabbed hold of his shoulder, her fingers curling around him as she dug her feet into the dirt road. The dry earth scuffed beneath her, little clouds of dust puffing up as she forced him to slow down.

“In more than one sentence, I mean,” she said, leaning towards his ear. “How did it happen? I know you said you wouldn’t take any risks, and I’m happy you didn’t, since it’s probably why we’re alive, but … what happened to her? What did the screecher do with her? Before I got injured, it honestly looked like they were … talking to each other. Communicating, somehow, though not with words.”

“Curious, that. I was thinking the same thing … but in the end, screechers only want one thing. It peeled the skin off her head and ate what was inside.”

“Did you see that happen?”

Nass cringed. “Why are you asking me this?” he asked, turning around.

“Because … you know why, Nass. There was something different about her. Ever since we met her, I’ve felt it. This dread … like a pit in my stomach, like I know something horrible is about to happen, and it's only a matter of time until it does. Like the only thing I can do is close my eyes so I don’t see it. You feel it too, don’t you?”

Nass suddenly found himself shaking and staring at Niss wide-eyed. He hadn’t even noticed it at first, and hadn’t wanted to admit it was there, but … she knew. She’d put her finger on it perfectly.

A pink hand suddenly appeared beneath Nass’s chin, turning his head away from his sister and towards the right. The pink-skin priestess was there, examining him closely with a discerning scowl.

“I heard that last bit,” she snapped. “I don’t appreciate being kept out of the loop. Tell me what this is about.”

Nass grimaced and batted the pink-skin’s hand away, walking a couple of steps away from the tall woman. The apprentice hurriedly walked over to her side, while Niss glanced at Nass with a worried expression on her face.

“You feel it, is that right?” the priestess asked. “The god’s horror? Did I not mishear?”

“Feel what?!” Nass asked. “Stay away from me.”

“Nass…” Niss said from the side.

“You’re afraid,” the priestess said. “But you don’t know why. You’re restless and paranoid, you want to keep moving. You feel like there are eyes watching you. Like the ground itself is trying to trip you. You see horrible things in the corners of your vision, but they disappear when you notice them. You feel so cold that your bones shake, even when it’s warm. How much of this sounds familiar?”

Nass gulped.

“All of it,” Niss said. “Every word. It was worse before, but … I remember it all.”

The priestess turned from Nass toward his sister. “Then you’ve been marked,” she said. “You’ve been in contact with our enemy.”

“I don’t know what dung you’ve been breathing in,” Nass said. “And I don’t know your enemies, but I feel fine. Talking about ‘scary’ makes you feel ‘scary’. That’s all.”

Niss stepped forward and grabbed Nass by the hand. “Nass, I think she might have a point. What if it’s that screecher that ate Scypha? It was huge.”

Hearing those words, the pink-skin woman’s eyes widened, and she visibly trembled. The apprentice looked at her in a panic.

“No,” the woman said. “You’ve met Scypha?”