“Er… okay.” Twain took off the soaked leather and handed it to Brittany, accepting her coat from her.

She pulled something out from her coat’s pocket as she handed it over and shook out a silvery wig. “Check the other pocket.”

Twain reached his hand in. Something hairy curled around his fingers. He yanked his hand out and peered inside. A dark wig curled up in his pocket.

“How did you know I can’t cast illusions anymore?” Twain asked, pulling out the wig and putting it on.

Brittany shrugged. “I had plenty of time to ask around on blight infection while you played damsel in Lilith’s palace. And we noticed, you know? That you stopped being so free with your magic.”

Clarita peered over her shoulder and made a noise that sounded almost like speech.

“Shut up, I didn’t just guess. There was logic that went into it! Research!” Brittany defended herself.

Twain laughed. “Thanks, Brittany.”

“Hey, no worries, scout. Hold on. We’re coming up on the border. From there, it’s goblin territory, then… I think you’ll hit… the avian country? That’ll be a rough one.”

“Right,” Twain said, taking a deep breath.

Brittany patted him on the shoulder, even if she had to spin awkwardly to do it. “Hey, don’t worry too much. We collaborated, you know? Planned, and stuff. We can’t get to Felix, but we can get you there.”

“Princess! You’re making a mistake. Give up that fugitive this instant!” John shouted.

“That’s my cue. Good luck, Mouse. See you on the other side.” Brittany saluted, then slid sideways off Clarita, executing a neat half-cartwheel before she hit the ground to land on her feet. Without hesitating a moment, she sped off into the forest.

“You! Stop him!” John shouted. The skeleton riders swooped down from overhead. Arrows punched into the ground all around Brittany.

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“Hahaha! You’ll never catch me!” she growled in her deepest voice.

Twain furrowed his brows and frowned at her. That sounds nothing like me.

“No one can ever catch the crossdressing elf prince, queen and king of subterfuge and disguise! Just you try!” Brittany added. She jumped to the side, neatly dodging another volley of arrows.

Alright, now she’s just trying to be obnoxious. Twain rolled his eyes and turned away.

Clarita surged ahead. Mouse bent low over her back. Brittany’s jacket pinched his armpits and didn’t quite fit around the shoulders, but he did up the clasps that he could. Quicker than any horse and agile as a mountain lion, Clarita dodged through the forest.

The further they drew from the edge of the Barrier, the thicker the blight became in the air. Clarita let out a barking cough and shook her head.

“This is far enough, Clarita. Thanks. I can take it from here,” Twain assured her, bending forward to pat her neck.

Clarita shook her head and sped up, gold eyes flashing. She leaped a path and hurried back under the cover of the trees, where the leaves blocked the worst of the blight.

“What’s going on with the blight? Is this all… from the springs?” Twain guessed.

Clarita nodded, then shrugged.

“Kind of? Uhm… let me guess. The springs were a powerful source of pure water and pure magic, and once they became tainted, the blight spread rapidly through the Barrier Alliance? And since it’s already in the Barrier, the Barrier can’t do anything to prevent it or counteract it?”

Clarita shrugged, then nodded.

“Alright, more or less, got it.” Twain gripped tighter to Clarita’s back. Under her fur, black splotches tainted her skin. He bent his head over it, wishing he could cast the purification spell on her and heal it. How many others? Everyone? Is there anyone who’s managed to escape the blight, after all this?

“No. Soon, the whole world will be one with me,” Xenozar said, sighing happily.

Twain narrowed his eyes at the specter and wished it away.

Xenozar hummed happily and danced alongside him, long hair swaying around him, each step carrying him a dozen feet. “All I’ve ever wanted is coming to fruition.”

He faded out on his own, vanishing back into the aether whence he’d came.

Clarita drew to a halt at last. Twain sat up and found himself on the edge of the forest. Ahead, a great empty plain stretched, nothing but rock as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a cluster of makeshift huts jutted out of the stone. Not far beyond that, a deep canyon cut into the floor, a jarring gash that the light of late morning couldn’t reach.

“This is as far as you’ll take me? Thank you.” Twain climbed off Clarita’s back.

“Good luck, Mouse. I know you can do it.”

Twain whipped around, but Clarita sat the same as she had before, a massive wolf. She lowered her head and pressed her forehead against his chest.

“I know. I’ll do my best.” He scratched behind her ears and hugged her, then let go. Taking a deep breath that pulled the too-tight jacket taut across him, he stepped out of the forest and onto the stone.