“So,” the necromancer said.

“Indeed,” Sou Yuet replied, with a small smile and a shrug.

Sunny made a sound that was almost like a groan.

They had been brought to a halt by the sea.

A grey-green ocean, roughened by winter winds, foamed and licked at the sand of the beach they stood on. Sou Yuet squinted west and north.

“I see... something white?”

“They say there's chalk on the coast of Kantos.”

“That's the land over there, is it?”

“Part of it.”

“Are there multiple countries, then? Like the Four Kingdoms region?”

“Sure are, except there's about forty of them crammed on that island.” Seeing Sou Yuet's interested expression, the necromancer crouched down and began to draw in the sand. “So we're here, in Calet. This large island here is where the forty kingdoms are, the closest being Kantos. After that, we'll have to cross through Londinion, Glēwom, Lētocaiton, and then Weyd before we'll be hitting ocean again. Then Iriu will be on the other side.”

The monk examined the complicated map. “Pang Yau, it seems you know the geography well around here. Have you travelled through this area before? Not...”

“Now I know ye're not referring to me package tour with the Aiteann Court. I... Yeah. With Mam.”

“Well, it seems like we're almost there.” Sou Yuet scanned the ocean again. “If the weather was calm, I would take us over easily... I wonder if I could temporarily calm the wind...”

“Could ye?”

“I think I could.”

“And then what, collapse with a bloody nose and have to sleep for a day to recover?”

“... Maybe.”

“No.”

“Then we'll have to find some other way. Perhaps a boat?” This suggestion was made optimistically. It was clear that, with winter still holding the land and ocean hostage, no one would be willing to take the voyage. In the nearest town, which was a couple of li away, the inhabitants had drawn their boats up out of the grasp of the wild sea and stored them safely for the season.

“Let's go back to the town,” Sou Yuet suggested. “We're just getting more and more damp out here, and we need some food and a rest too.”

Both the monk and the necromancer looked at Sunny. There was no hiding her any more. She was taller than Sou Yuet when she sat, a huge mass of muscle and fur, her blue tongue lolling good-naturedly. Her fluffy tail wagged continuously.

“I'll go,” the necromancer said. “I can speak a bit of the language. There's some bits pretty similar to Adhmaid. And round here I won't be standing out as much as a cute little Eastern monk and a giant hairy lion-dog hybrid.”

Sou Yuet sat between Sunny's paws and almost disappeared into the fur of her chest as they leaned back. “Call out if you need help.”

The necromancer grunted agreement without looking back.

As she disappeared, Sou Yuet opened their pack and began sorting through the contents, smoothing crushed pages in their notebook and throwing aside scraps of torn leaf and seed husks. They almost had their entire head in the bag when Sunny growled suddenly, so deep that Sou Yuet felt it rather than heard it. They looked up to find themselves being observed by three figures.

Two of the figures were very small, perhaps only as tall as Sou Yuet's elbow. Of these, one had a gnarled face and body, like a dried apple, bright red eyes, large ears, and snow-white hair. It blinked at the monk with devious intelligence. The other small figure had a wide face and a sorrowful expression, its bony limbs and clawed hands moving sluggishly. In spite of the cold, neither of these creatures seemed to be clothed in much more than light cloths.

The third figure was very tall, warm in a long black robe and keeping the snow and wind off with a flat, broad-brimmed hat. It stood very still, while the other two figures whispered and plucked at its robe.

Sou Yuet stood and bowed politely. “Good day. Do you speak Common Tongue?”

The red-eyed creature laughed wildly but did not respond. The tall person's only response was to adjust their grip on the staff they carried, although Sou Yuet quickly realised that the object they carried was, in fact, a scythe. A strange thing to be carrying, in a season when there was nothing to harvest.

In addition, the monk could feel a certain energy from this faceless person that seemed somewhat familiar. They had come across it twice before, so there was no denying what it might be. Without taking their eyes off the three figures, Sou Yuet carefully crouched and put their hand into their pack, groping carefully.

The small, red-eyed creature shuffled restlessly, its curiosity obviously prodding at it. It didn't have long to wait; Sou Yuet stood up again, and let the object in their hand drop and dangle from the cord that bound it.

They stepped away from Sunny to gain the space to swing.

The carved bone of the kei-leon hummed like an enormous insect, carrying through the cold air. The two smaller creatures jumped back in alarm, eyeing the object suspiciously, but when nothing else seemed to happen, the red-eyed one grinned and sniggered.

“What the feck are ye laughing at?” the necromancer shouted, slightly out of breath.

The trio turned to look at this new arrival. The red-eyed creature began to yatter incessantly, while the more melancholy one began to let out a sound like the wind whistling through loose boards.

The tall one removed their hat, and bowed, courteously. The hat had been worn over the hood of the cloak, and not once could anyone see more than a dark space and a pair of glowing white eyes.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I greet you, sister.” A strongly accented male voice emanated from the dark. The two creatures by his sides bowed too, although the red-eyed one had a mocking grin on its face.

“What is it ye're wanting?” The necromancer strode purposefully past them to join the monk, who was calmly tucking the kei-leon's rib back into their pack. Sunny stood up and shook herself vigorously.

“I was merely undertaking my rounds, when I noticed your companion and pet here.” The man replaced his hat. “I was curious.”

“Grand. Ye've sorted yer damned curiosity, so off ye go.”

“Will you be needing some assistance?”

“Not from you.”

“Sir, we're looking for some way to cross the ocean to Kantos,” Sou Yuet said, smiling and ignoring the necromancer's outraged splutters. “Would you know of some way?”

“Certainement, I may be able to assist. Where are you going? What is the purpose of your travels?”

“None of yer business.”

“We're investigating disappearances.”

“Ah.” With a decisive nod, the tall man turned. “Come with me. Let us talk somewhere more comfortable. Kornikaned! Enough!”

The red-eyed creature, who had been grinning agressively, immediate became docile, following at the man's heels like a puppy. The other creature slinked sadly after them.

“Ye can't seriously be thinking about following?”

“Why not?”

“He's another death guide! An ankoù, they call them round here. What if we get another weirdo like Mr Fox following us around?”

“Then we'll deal with it.”

“Monk!”

“Let's go. We're going to lose them.”

The ankoù was striding rapidly away on long legs, the two small creatures struggling to keep up. They didn't travel far. On a well-defined road nearby stood a sturdy cart, and the ankou opened a door at the back and stepped inside. One by one the others followed; even Sunny was able to squeeze inside without the cart even shifting in complaint.

When they were all seated on benches along the cart's walls, the ankoù took his hat off again, although there was still no sign of a defined face, only those two white eyes glowing in the dark interior of the cart.

“So, friends, you are 'eaded for Kantos next? 'ave you 'eard of the ones who 'ave gone missing from the kingdoms?”

“We haven't. Could you give us more information?” Sou Yuet asked. The necromancer folded her arms across her chest and glowered fiercely.

“I 'ave 'eard of some... a licorne, a unicorn, missing from Glēwom. Some Gnewers, in various places. And a morgen, a mermaid, who was nearly taken off the coast of Karnos in the south. She escaped, luckily.”

“Have there been no cases around here?”

The ankoù petted the sad-eyed creature that sat tucked up beside him like a favourite cat. “There 'as not. Not while I am 'ere.”

“Have you met Lí?” Sou Yuet asked directly.

The glowing white eyes raised to look at the monk's face. “We came to an understanding. 'e will not be engaging in business around 'ere.”

“But it's fine elsewhere?” The necromancer snorted.

The ankoù shrugged. “My domain is 'ere, nowhere else. Besides, I understand business. There is demand, 'e supplies. Just as humanity supplies me, and I find myself demanding.”

“Is there demands for his... products... around here?”

“Not 'ere.” The korikaned gnawed with savage playfulness at the ankoù's fingers as if jealous being left out of the affectionate petting. It was rolled onto its back with that hand and had its stomach vigorously rubbed. “The demand, I believe, is greatest from your 'omeland, little monk.”

Sou Yuet's eyes were the frosty green of a glacial lake in winter. “Could you explain please, Sir Ankoù?”

“Eh? Were you not aware?” The ankoù sent the korikaned rolling away along the bench. “People seek medicines and cantrips in plants, mainly, in this part of the world. I 'ave been told that those to the east are believers in the power of bone and blood, fur and horn, so much so they will pay greatly to own them.

“The people of this land fear the supernatural and divine. Those in the east seem to want to possess it. Am I wrong? It is not the people 'ere who cry for the immortal flesh of a morgen nor the soft luxury of an aughisky's 'air.”

The wind whistled outside the cart, and the small melancholy creature whistled too.

Sou Yuet closed their eyes for a few breaths. “I see. Sir Ankoù, you said you might know of a way to cross the sea?”

“Ha. Indeed. There is a certain friend of mine who lives in the ocean, and could strongly swim with you. Your little 'ound might pose a bit of a problem, though.”

“I'm sure we can find a solution.” Sou Yuet's smile was back. “Can we meet this friend?”

“But of course. Let us exit once more.”

They emerged from the cart back into the winter's day, following the ankoù back towards the ocean. The two small creatures, the red-eyed korikaned and the sad-eyed creature that the ankoù called Bugul Noz, scampered about, continuously wandering further and further away as they were distracted by interestingly shaped sticks and rocks until the ankoù would call them back.

At the edge of the ocean, the tall man called out, “CINQCORNE! CINQCORNE!” before turning away to watch the korikaned and Bugul Noz run up and down the beach, looking at shells. After a while, he looked up at the necromancer.

“Sister, why are you doing such things?”

“What d'ye mean?” she grunted.

“Perhaps I misunderstand, but you seem very... attached... to the world. Why trouble yourself? Go where you will. Let the world take care of itself.”

“What about you? Ye could do the same, and yet ye've chosen to hang about and guide the recently deceased.”

The tall man shook his head. “I 'ave no choice in the matter. When my mortal form died at the beginning of this year, the duty fell on me to guide those who died after me. I cannot give up this role and move on until the year ends. Soon, very soon. But you are different, sister.”

“I've met a few people like you.” The necromancer watched Sou Yuet standing at the edge of the ocean, staring out at the grey waves. “Watching the world go by like it has nothing to do with them whatsoever. Only making a move when they're affected directly. And every time I did, I found myself thinking of this fool of a monk and their determination to travel to the ends of the earth, looking for... justice, I guess. All the way, I've been listening to how much they care about everything.”

A ripple, perpendicular to the motion of the waves, was distantly approaching the beach.

“And damned if it's a bloody stupid way to live. But I can't... I can't help but think... isn't it something lovely to find someone that cares?”

From out of the grey waters emerged the head of a cow, five proud horns curving from between her ears. She washed up into the shallows, a large fish's tail following behind her bovine head and torso.

The ankoù's eyes extinguished for a moment, as if he had closed them, then appeared again. “I see. Very good then.” He approached the cinqcorne and knelt heedlessly in the shallows to speak with her.

“Can they even be understanding each other?” the necromancer queried, joining Sou Yuet.

“But of course. Beings such as Us speak only the true language, the one understood by all in their very souls. Have you not noticed that you, too, could understand those of Our kind, when you conversed with Us?”

“Sir Ankoù is correct. We did indeed converse with several beings without concern,” Sou Yuet observed, thinking back to the interactions with the Hadyahosh and the sphynx. “Although this doesn't always seem to be the case...” The monk looked askance at the korikaned and Bugul Noz, who were tussling fiercely in the sand. The korikaned was winning.

“True. It does also depend, to a certain level, the intelligence and spiritual power of the one you are speaking to.” The ankoù seized the korikaned by the scruff of the neck and carelessly tossed it down the beach, while Bugul Noz tearfully crept into his black robe to hide.

“How do ye explain me then?” the necromancer pointed out.

“Admittedly, you are most unusual. Perhaps something was missing... I am not sure. I 'ave only been the ankoù since the end of last winter, and soon I will cease to be again. Some matters will forever be a mystery to my mind. 'ere, this cinqcorne will take you. And another will be arriving soon for your 'ound.”

“Thank you, Sir Ankoù.” Sou Yuet bowed again.

“No need for thanks, petite monk.” The ankoù's glowing white eyes settled on the cultivator. “It is only a pity... I would 'ave liked to see... No matter. Bon voyage.”

Another five-horned head emerged, and soon, the three travellers were seated on the backs of the cinqhornes. Without further farewells, the ankoù turned and walked away from the beach.

The last that Sou Yuet and the necromancer saw of him, he was headed towards the village, the scythe suddenly back in his hand and his two companions scampering after him.

And then, they were out on the cold, grey water.