The crowd murmured. They parted, allowing an old candlefolk with gray hair and a short tail to pass between them. He wore a simple coat and cloak, and his face was stern.

“Ah…Lord Randhook,” Kinfild said. “Apologies. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

The lord stopped at the front of the crowd and observed Kinfild, Jace, and Lessa with his glowing orange eyes. He demanded, “What are you doing here, Kinfild?”

“I swear on the Split, I was here on business. Crimson Table business, mind you, but I wasn’t trying to cause any trouble.” Kinfild dipped his head. “Which is going to make this all the more…awkward, as I am about to cause you lots of trouble. I need someone to look after this worldjumper for a few weeks. Take him out into the forest in the evenings and hunt a few darklings—or…well, take him anywhere in the evening, now—and make sure he earns enough Aes to keep advancing.”

The lord stared at Kinfild with a blank expression. “We need your help to train him. We can give him shelter, but that’s about it.”

Jace scowled. He wasn’t just going to wait here. Not a good plan, especially when his life depended on it.

And everyone was talking about him like he wasn’t here.

He looked at Lessa, wondering what her response would be. She shifted away from the lord uncomfortably.

“You’re used to people talking about you like you aren’t here, eh?” Jace whispered to her. “Deciding your future?”

She nodded, a grim expression slipping onto her face for the first time. “Yeah.”

“Where I’m heading, it will be very dangerous,” Kinfild said to the whole crowd. “Especially for someone new to this galaxy, and certainly for a worldjumper who’s…what, six-percent through Foundation One?”

“How about a city-planet? An ecumenopolis?” the lord suggested. “There are no forests there.”

Kinfild stated, “Darklings lurk in the depths of the stacked cities—and other foes not so inhuman. My word on this is final. You will take charge of Jace Baldwin.” Then, from his robes, he produced the list of quests—the list the Jace couldn’t read. He handed it to Jace.

Jace accepted the slip of parchment. For lack of anything better to do with it, he stuffed it in the front pocket of his backpack. “Kinfild,” he hissed. “More powerful enemies means a greater reward, right? More Aes and faster advancement?”

“No, Mr. Baldwin,” Kinfild asserted. “That is not an option. I am ordering you to stay here.”

Jace sighed. He wouldn’t get anywhere by arguing, but that didn’t mean he had to go along with the plan. He didn’t have to wait here with an elderly lord and a bunch of disinterested candlefolk, and he certainly didn’t have to stunt his magical growth because Kinfild decided to leave without him.

Without another word, Kinfild spun away. He marched briskly back to the forest, his robe flowing behind him. Jace watched until he disappeared between the trunks of the trees.

The crowd dispersed, mumbling and whispering, but Lord Randhook and Lessa didn’t move. They both still stared at Jace. About a minute passed. If Jace had been anyone else, he probably would’ve walked away, dismissing the lord as an old, senile man. Jace didn’t move.

Finally, with an annoyed and unconvinced groan, the Randhook said, “Come on, boy. Let’s get you sorted out. I’ll go see if we can get you a couple more weeks of accommodation at the inn.”

Jace followed the lord over to the inn’s door, but he waited outside, leaning against the stacked crates. Randhook disappeared inside and the door hissed shut behind him.

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“Great…” Lessa muttered, pacing in front of him. “Great, great. It’ll probably be a quarter orbit before anyone comes back with a starship, and they’ll probably be worthless scavengers who want to rip my tail off and sell it, or something…”

“Kinfild said he would be back in a few weeks,” Jace stated.

She stopped. “Yeah. For a wizard like him…something tells me that’s unlikely.”

“Either he pawned me off to you for babysitting duty and has no plans on returning, or he’ll get himself killed before he can come back.” Jace shook his head. Every second he spent here was a second spent poorly. He would make Kinfild take him along if he had to.

Most of the candlefolk had dispersed, but some (two of Randhook’s men) stood at the edge of the garden. They held crude pitchforks. That, aside from the Whistling Blades, was the only thing close to a weapon that Jace had seen here.

They didn’t trust him.

When he looked closely at them and concentrated on them, a tag appeared above their heads. For both, it read: [Level 4 Farmer].

Lessa started pacing again. When the guards looked away, Jace hissed, “Lessa, I’ll make you a deal.”

She stopped pacing and turned to face him. “A deal?”

He looked up at her forehead and narrowed his eyes until the tag appeared above her head too: [Level 4 Candlefolk]. According to the Split, at least, she was as strong as the guards. Or just as useful.

But he didn’t want to hurt two innocent guards.

“I need a distraction,” he whispered. “If you can cause one, I’ll help get you offworld.”

“What?”

“We’re going with Kinfild,” Jace whispered. “We’ll follow him. We’ll get on his starship and make him take us offworld.” He pushed up from the crate and tilted his head towards the candlefolk guards. “Get their attention, distract them. I’ll slip away and meet you in the forest. I’ll be waiting at the head of the trail, just out of sight.”

“Oh, you’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Worldjumper,” Lessa whispered back.

“And one more thing. We’re probably not coming back here in a while. Now would be a better time than any to grab a Whistling Blade…”

“Adding more to the deal, hm?” She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “Well, you’ve probably earned it, doing cleanup duty and all. If I can sneak the blue one away without anyone noticing, then I will. Deal?”

“I’ll take that.”

Lessa beamed. “The fawlgoats are going to hate me for sure after this…” Then, she wandered off down the path, holding her hands behind her back and whistling. She disappeared behind a hill, and the guards let her go. She wasn’t their target.

The two guards were staring at Jace suspiciously now, so he waved back, hoping to seem as innocent as possible. A few minutes passed. He practiced manifesting his technique card and making it disappear again. The tingle it left in his hand was satisfying, and it made a pleasant whooshing sound whenever he did it.

Then, in the distance, a bleat rolled over the hills. It wasn’t high-pitched like the darklings’ roars, nor did it gurgle or crackle—it was a living, normal animal. An entire chorus followed, rolling over the hills and echoing off the scattered buildings. A cloud of dust rose in the distance.

Jace’s eyes widened, and he craned his neck to catch a better view of what was happening.

The ground thundered. Like a wave crashing on a shore, a herd of matted fur and horns barrelled over a nearby hill. They surged towards the inn beyond it. Each goat was the size of a small cat, but there were nearly fifty of them, and Lessa was leading them. They snipped at her heels and pounced at her burning tail.

Both of the guards whirled around to face the horde of goats. Jace seized his chance. He pushed his Aes into his core until the technique card appeared in the air in front of him, then he snapped it up and crushed it in his hand.

He triggered a hyperjump, aiming as far away as he could, but he only made it about fifteen meters. He sprinted the rest of the distance while the guards weren’t looking. They might have heard the boom, but they’d never catch up with his head start.

After a few minutes of sprinting, he reached the edge of the forest. A few more paces, and he leapt over a log. He ducked down, sheltered from sight.

He didn’t see what happened at the inn, but he heard crashes, shattering glass, and frustrated shouts. On instinct, he cringed, but he doubted the candlefolk were terribly busy. They’d have plenty of time to make repairs—and this time, Lessa wouldn’t have to serve a sentence in the inn.

At least, Jace hoped. A few minutes passed, and he didn’t see her. Had they caught her? Should he go back and check? He couldn’t leave without her; he’d made a deal.

Then, behind him, a twig snapped. He ripped his bayonet out of his belt and spun around. He expected a darkling, no matter how high the suns were in the sky, or at least some sort of creature.

Instead, it was Lessa.

“And I would have gotten away with a little prank if it hadn’t been for that damn twig, too!” she complained. “Ready?”

He tucked his bayonet away. The trail was just ahead, and they’d need to pick up the pace if they wanted to catch Kinfild.