Dawn light spilled across the sky. Twain pressed on, drawing his oiled coat closer to guard against the chill from the water. He frowned at the distant glimmer on the horizon. Hurry up and rise. I want to dry off.

In the distance, hooves beat against the ground. Twain pressed his back against a tree and listened, ears flicking toward the sound. Which kingdom did I end up in? From the mermaid’s bay… undead, or beastfolk?

The horse drew to a halt. Snorting, it stomped the ground a few times, restless. Armor clattered softly from the rider on its back. He peered carefully around the tree.

A headless rider in heavy armor sat atop a decaying horse. They patted their steed and brushed a hand through its lanky hair.

Undead kingdom it is.

The horse raised its head and looked at him with luminescent orange eyes.

Twain whipped back around the tree. It didn’t see me, did it?

“Friend, why do you hide?”

Twain sucked in a breath. He stiffened. Not talking to me, it’s definitely not talking to me.

“You, behind the tree there.”

Reluctantly, Twain stepped out from behind the tree, tugging his hood down low to hide his ears. The horse stared at him, and so did the headless rider, who clasped a skull under their arm. Orange flames glowed in the skull’s sockets, the same shade as the horse’s eyes.

“Good afternoon. I’m a mere passerby,” Twain introduced himself.

The dullahan nodded at him, dipping its head up and down. “Hello, Passerby. You can call me John.”

Twain nodded. “Good to meet you. Then, I’ll be on my way.”

The dullahan held out a skeletal hand, blocking his way. “A moment, please. There’s a bounty out for a moon elf. I did notice your gray skin. I know many of our race share the elves’ gray skin, but if you would be so kind as to lift your hood? It will only be a moment, and you’ll be on your way.”

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Twain jolted, then smiled. “Of course, of course.” He reached out to the magic inside him, calling out to it.

Barely a second later, blight rushed up and spiked into his core. It tore into him, a raw ache, as if he rubbed an open wound on sandpaper. Twain crumpled, hands on his stomach.

“If you promise to let me out, I’ll let you use your magic. I can take all the pain away,” Xenozar whispered invisibly in his ear.

“Never,” Twain hissed.

Xenozar laughed. The laughter faded away to nothing, a mere echo on the breeze.

“Never?” John asked.

“No, no, I… a moment,” Twain said, holding a hand up.

John settled back in his saddle. “I have time. Nothing but time. Eternity, even.”

“That’s a good attitude,” Twain said distractedly. He backed away. Okay, what do I have? No sword. Lilith wasn’t so kind. No magic, because Xenozar’s being an asshole—no, no, he’s not here. That’s a figment of my imagination. Because of the blight.

He’s on a horse. I can’t outrun him. Besides, he could chase me forever, day and night. I’ll eventually need to sleep and eat, but he won’t.

Think, Twain. Think.

He blinked, then looked at the dullahan. “This moon elf… a man, or a woman?”

“A man, of course. He was posing as a woman, though, I believe.”

Twain threw back his hood. At the same time, he took a deep breath, widened his stance, and grimaced. “As you can see, I am a moon elf, but… do you really think a paragon of masculinity like myself could be mistaken for a woman?”

The dullahan squinted, his eye-flames squeezing in on themselves. “You are rather slender. I could see it.”

Twain scoffed. “Have you ever seen a moon elf?”

“Once… from a distance. A beautiful race, probably one of the most beautiful races I’ve seen, second only to the sun elves.”

Twain pointed at him. “Precisely. And female moon elves are the paragon of beauty. Do I look like a paragon of beauty to you?”

The dullahan tipped its head. Twain deepened his grimace and put his hands on his hips.

Hesitantly, John put his jaw on edge, what Twain imagined would have been biting his lips, if he had lips. “No, I suppose not.”

“How could a hideous moon elf like me ever pass as a woman? A princess, at that? It’s laughable.” Twain shook his head, laughing to himself.

“I… never said I was looking for a princess,” John said slowly.

Twain’s eyes went wide. Oh shit. He laughed, backing away. “I… I mean, everyone knows, right?”

“No, it’s not common knowledge,” John replied, narrowing his eyes at Twain.

Twain bolted.

“Oy, come back, you!” John shouted. He spun his horse around and raced after Twain.

Twain ducked around the trees, pressing through close gaps where John and his horse couldn’t follow. John chased after him, horse screaming after Twain.