With as much dignity as I could muster, I rose from the cushions and pretended to toss them down the stairs, meanwhile storing them in the Hoarder’s Pocket instead. Those things were money, and were also comfortable. I wasn’t going to risk losing them to a rando looter.

Only once I was done and my team alerted did I invite the scout inside.

Uthkul was a good head taller than I was, with long, dark brown hair tamed into a widow’s braid. She wore brigandine, although the jacket underneath showed through in places. A broken spear was strapped to her back, and the rest of her weapons were in their sheaths. Tension was wound around her like a rope.

Checking her Status, I saw that her first and most-powerful talent was Pathfinder.

She glanced at the stone flower in the room’s center before approaching with her palms turned toward me. Both her hands were empty. “Thank you, Honored. Will you come with me? A waterspout has descended from the sky, and our people don’t know how to appease it.”

“You mean it’s lingering?” I asked.

She nodded. “Just so. The spout turns before the pyramid’s entrance as if waiting to enter, and it has been there since first light.”

A couple of hours, then, I thought, wondering what the hell it could be. “Anyone injured?”

“None yet,” Uthkul replied, “but our people worry. The storm’s origins are plainly supernatural, and to deny the spirits their due is exceedingly dangerous.”

There were about a dozen words in Diaksh to describe levels and kinds of danger, and she’d specifically used the one to indicate the worst of both.

“Well, I suppose I should see what that’s all about,” I said.

Both Yuki and Fala sent question marks my way, and a beat later my team followed suit; there was absolutely no need for me to go outside. Yet, I was curious, and—after some prodding—I admitted to being hungry for the storm.

I’d only experienced the edges of it so far, and inside me was a need to know what it was like. I had to know how it felt to be in its midst.

The expedition was on its way to my position, so they’d not be caught unawares in case this was a ploy of some kind. I didn’t think it was, based on what I saw in Uthkul’s spirit, but she might not have known the role she played if this truly was an elaborate trap.

“Lead the way,” I told her.

Uthkul had a long stride, and she spoke as we walked: “We of the other expeditions will wait in the pyramid’s worship hall, so that you may address the spirits without concern. Those of us from Ganas Hakei pledge that this is so, and we will ensure there will be no interference.”

She looked back at me a moment before continuing, “If I lie, my life is yours. If an exchange is required for the deer spirit, we will contribute toward it for the sake of urging the storm away. This bitter fiasco of a race must conclude; our people only wish to return home.”

And in fact, I sensed my Mark of the Hunter moving as well—through the pyramid to stop in the area where the worship hall was located. When we reached that floor, the smell of blood and meat was nearly overwhelming. We headed in the opposite direction instead, toward the main doors, where the sound of thunder echoed.

I hadn’t paid too much attention to the doors when I’d explored the pyramid earlier. All that had mattered then was that they were tightly shut. Now they stood open, and the wind and rain poured inside.

Outside, the world was dark, the clouds boiling with the forces rampaging through them. Lightning thrashed the city and the mountains. The thunder smashed into me so strongly I felt my eyes and teeth vibrate. And yet… and yet… I approached the scene like an unfeeling zombie. It was a movie with the sound off. Like trying to taste something delicious, but with all my taste buds dead. The feeling was of nerve endings muffled by an anesthetic that would never wear off.

The water on the floor shivered as the wind blew across its surface. That I felt. And I saw the promised water spout stretching from the pyramid’s base to the sky above. A spirit of the air twirled within, her form vaguely human.

My spirit eyes revealed her to me, yet I felt no connection at all.

> Error

>

> Not a valid talent vessel.

Ikfei sent. ‘She’s as far above me as the sky above the Glen.’

For a long while I stood, staring at what wasn’t mine anymore. Yes, I’d known the loss of Storm Caller would have a profound impact, but it took coming face to face with the biggest storm I’d likely ever see in either of my lives to bring it home.

A part of me had once thought I might get to play with its lightning. A part had fantasized I might make some difference in the birth of the being incubating among the clouds. Yet neither of those things was to be.

Gods, I felt gutted.

“Honored, what should we do?” Uthkul asked. The hunter had taken a position inside the doors.

That’s strange, I thought. When did I step outside? I’m… I’m drenched.

Water now covered me from head to toe, protecting me from the wind scouring the city. Fala’s will resided within, next to mine. I must’ve unconsciously done it.

Both Yuki and she waited patiently for me to recover. Their care wrapped around me, like the water did, helping to bring warmth back to my heart that had gone cold.

‘We’re so sorry,’ Yuki whispered.

‘Oh, my beloved,’ Fala sent. ‘I—’

But with a thought, I stopped her from continuing. No regrets. This loss is simply a measure of how much else I’ve gained.

Yuki offered, ‘When one door closes, another opens.’

Sometimes the aphorisms are true, I thought in reply.

‘This expression describes my life,’ Fala sent.

Which was also true, wasn’t it? From Ikiira to Ikfael and Ikfael to Fala—those were different doors closing and opening. A person’s life changed directions in response to tragedy and opportunity both.

Becoming Fala’s beloved was a choice I’d made, and it was one I would treasure. I was not a fool to ignore or bury the loss I felt, but at the same time I refused to let it consume me.

Life often felt like the same battles fought over and over again, only under different circumstances. If that was the case, didn’t it mean we could use those battles to practice? Shouldn’t I learn how to let the loss move through me while also looking at the path ahead?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The sadness and gratitude mingled, as did the love and loss. I contain multitudes, I thought, and that was a truth I’d known for a very long time.

###

My family waited for me to fully comprehend these mysteries, offering support in their own ways. Eventually, though, I had to do something about the air elemental. I noticed how she watched the doors, even as she continued twirling inside the waterspout. That was not something human necks could do, and the sight was jarring enough to bring me back to reality.

“She really does seem like she wants to come inside, doesn’t she?” Then I raised my voice, “Do you need permission to enter?”

Thunder echoed, but it wasn’t the elemental’s doing. She hadn’t reacted to my voice.

Wind howled across the surface of the flood waters, yet not where we were. The area in the pyramid’s immediate vicinity seemed to be experiencing a reprieve from the worst of the storm.

The biggest threat to the pyramid was the twister, which was half made of water. It was an obvious lever to pull.

Shall I? I thought.

‘Let me,’ Fala sent. Then she laid her influence against the waterspout… but nothing happened. ‘Her authority greatly surpasses mine. I don’t think she even noticed me.’

I’ll help, I thought, focusing my will along with Fala’s.

Once again she attempted to influence the spout, but it was like shooting a water pistol at a river. So, I merged consciousnesses with Yuki, and our combined influence greatly bolstered Fala’s, causing the river to distort slightly under the pressure of a firehouse. That was enough to halt the elemental’s twirling. Slowly, the winds stilled, and the water that had made up the spout fell in thick sheets.

The air spirit shifted her gaze from the doors to the figurine around my neck.

A moment later, I felt Fala’s surprise. ‘She called me cousin.’

The elemental glided forward until she floated only a spear’s length away. That close, I saw that she was wispy white and about twice my height, with long streamers emerging from her body. A couple approached to scan across my body, poking and prodding among my belongings. They smelled like the high clouds.

A third tendril touched my beloved’s figurine and hovered it in the air.

‘I’m having difficulty in making sense of her words,’ Fala sent, ‘but I believe she’s saying that she’s an emissary sent to recover ‘a lost memory.’ The door is apparently open to her, but an old agreement prevents her entrance.’

Would it help if we invite her in? I asked.

The wind howled, and that was the elemental. I didn’t need Fala to tell me the response was a negative.

‘We don’t have the authority,’ my beloved sent.

I’m not going to put on Amleila’s chain, I thought.

‘We wouldn’t let you!’ both Yuki and Fala replied instantly.

I cleared my throat and thought, All right, all right. Do we know what this memory looks like?

‘Oh yes we do.’ Fala’s thoughts turned wry. ‘You’ll need to send that Uthkul away. The item the spirit wants is in our Hoarder’s Pocket, and it’d be best if there are no witnesses.’

I sent, Is it the chain?

‘No,’ she answered.

The crystal? I thought, horrified.

‘Beloved, it’s the talon.’

The thing whose power our Deer God consumed? I clarified.

With a sigh, she answered, ‘Yes.’

Damn it, I thought then immediately dismissed Uthkul to join the others in the worship hall.

The woman was grateful to go. She’d seen enough by then to know things were starting to happen and had no desire to be a part of them.

I tracked the water she carried with her until she was well out of view, and only then did I bring the talon out of the pocket.

Tendrils of air billowed from the elemental’s body, taking the item and lifting it up. A moment of intense investigation followed, and then a disappointed sigh breathed past me. I nervously eyed the forlornness on the spirit’s face, but it didn’t change into wrath even after minutes had passed.

‘Gratitude,’ Fala sent. ‘We have the emissary’s gratitude for finding one of the lost memories, but she regrets that time has already eaten away its potency. All she can give us in exchange is two days’ good weather.’

What if we want to keep the talon? I thought. It’s high silvered! And we can—For a beat, the spirit focused on me, and I immediately retracted my desire. No, never mind. That was a foolish idea. The lost memory should go back to where it belongs.

‘This is not a choice,’ Fala confirmed, her spirit quaking. ‘We must give it back.’

Yeah, I got that. She can just take it.

Then without even looking at us, the spirit flew off into the sky with the talon trailing after her.

I put my hand over my heart and felt it beating hard. That was almost bad, right?

‘Very bad,’ Fala confirmed.

‘But the danger has passed?’

‘It has,’ she replied. ‘The emissary told me the storm would depart.’

To look for more memories? I asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Fala replied. ‘I don’t know how we could know.’

Just one of the many mysteries of Diaksha, then.

‘A truth,’ my beloved sent. ‘But we’re okay now. That is what matters.’

We lost something so precious, though.

‘We did,’ she sent, ‘but we will manage, won’t we?’

That also is a truth, I replied.

###

The expeditions from Ganas Hakei and Sugrusu Hakei were relieved to hear the storm would be moving on. I left them discussing how to split the proceeds from the furnishings Fala and I had left behind upstairs. They’d lost friends and colleagues participating in the hierophant’s race—was the taak they’d gain in exchange worth it?

That wasn’t my business to figure out. Doors closed and doors opened; these people had their own to walk through. Except for Skara the Clever—hers was business I did need to figure out. I made sure to refresh my Prey of the Hunter on her while I was nearby.

After that, we all went back to what we’d been doing before the emissary’s visit. I resumed standing guard at the stairwell leading down to the dasekua, while my team explored the rest of the Arc of Knowledge.

Poor Anya. I couldn’t explain to her why the fountains she’d previously examined had also stopped working.

###

Three days passed before the waters receded enough for the race participants to evacuate from Old Baxteiyel. The sky was a blue-and-white patchwork that morning, with only a light breeze tugging at our cloaks. About a half mile to the north, a kettle of vultures circled.

The other expeditions descended the pyramid’s steps below us. Mud was everywhere, and the stones smelled damp and moldy. Our boots squelched as we followed them. An agreement had been reached between all the expedition leaders, Anya included, for the expeditions to leave together.

The pyramid had already been attacked multiple times by undead who’d found ways to stay in the city while underwater. A joint defense had seemed to make the most sense, since there was no longer any reason to compete with each other.

Which was fine; it really was. Even while hidden deep within the land, the undead still managed to track me. My team and I could no longer guarantee to Anya and Weni that we could sneak them out—not without me splitting off and moving separately.

So, a joint defense it was, and we made short work of the undead who came at us—a hundred fifty-eight dawn and dusk warriors cooperating. None of the other expeditions’ members below Level 5 had survived.

Occasionally, we passed the rotting carcasses of animals who’d washed down from the mountains. They lay half-buried, their bones adding to the pale stone buildings. The storm had left its mark on the city; the ruins seemed diminished in its aftermath. And yet the broken walls and the half-fallen structures remained.

As we left the ruined city behind, a few of us turned back to look at Old Baxteiyel.

No doubt philosophers would flock here now that the pyramid was open and the undead were cleared away. All they’d find, though, are the empty shells and the faintest of echoes of what had been so proudly built here. Only a handful might ever imagine the secret horrors that had once been concealed within. And they’d never know for certain either—the key to the codes locked away in our Hoarder’s Pocket.

Ahead of us, the forest had been ravaged too. The weaker trees had broken, as had the ones who couldn’t bend. Only the strong and flexible had survived, both characteristics necessary to weather the storm.

Here the expeditions split. Those returning to Albei, either as a waypoint or their final destination, would cut across the hills to the west as a more direct route. Everyone else—for example, those heading to Sugrusu Hakei—would go north to the pass at Bashruuta.

I told the other expeditions that I would linger in the area around Old Baxteiyel to put down any monsters stirred up by the storm. Only Anya, Weni, and my team knew the truth.

We made arrangements within our expedition for the goods in the Hoarder’s Pocket and said our farewells, hugging each other tight. The race had been nothing like any of us had expected, but at least we’d prospered from it.

Anya was disappointed to be leaving so soon, but every one of her notebooks was full by that point. She would surely make good use of everything she’d learned. There was a distracted look on her face that refused to go away, her head clearly full of magical theories and patterns.

Mumu and Teila lingered the longest and fussed the most. These people cherished me, and I cherished them back. I asked them to pass along my love to those waiting back home. They were due a heartfelt conversation, but I decided to put it off until we could meet in person.

Until then, I was only a Yuki away—that was important to remember—and I promised to keep them informed of my activities. Maltra’s spy was currently a half hour to north, traveling to Bashruuta with the other survivors from her expedition.

The Maltrans had attacked my Fala, and I wouldn’t... we wouldn’t let them get away with it.