They set off along the trail. Jace wasn’t sure if it was the same one that he and Kinfild had taken on the way in, but it still led them back east—toward the open fields where Kinfild had left his starship. With any luck, they’d be on the other side of the forest in a matter of hours.

But there were still shadows everywhere. Jace glanced around warily. Who knew what might jump out of the trees, or about what lurked in the dark alcoves and gullies?

He knew nothing about the darklings, and they’d just proven that anything these people knew about the darklings could also be wrong.

“You’re pretty quiet for someone who was just…plunked here,” Lessa commented. “You’re not overwhelmed?”

Jace looked back over his shoulder. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Of course it was overwhelming. So overwhelming that he didn’t even know what to ask. Above all, he wanted to pry about the Whistling Blade, but she hadn’t said anything about it yet…

“I pestered Kinfild with questions last night,” he said.

“Isn’t any of this wonderful to you?” she continued. “I thought the worldjumpers were supposed to come from a place with ancient technology. How about our kyborgs? Or the repeller-carts? Or…do you wonder what might be high up in the stars? I know I do! Did I tell you I’ve never been offworld?”

“New technology?” Jace asked. He scowled. “Can’t say I have much experience with that. If it couldn’t help us with the farm, Dad didn’t want it.”

“Ah…kinda get that feeling, too.” She adjusted the new pack she wore on her back. It was a long tube of waxy straw, bound on both ends by a strap of leather. Not much would fit in there—certainly not supplies.

If she had sneaked a sword out of the village, it would be in there.

“Come on, we’re headed off on an adventure!” she exclaimed. “It’ll be great! You like adventures, right? We’ll see oceans and mountains, or vast nebulae and foreign stars!”

“I’d like to not die, for one thing.”

“Oh, come on…”

“Alright, fine. I’d rather my life had a little more meaning than just sitting around on a farm. I’d like to be important, for once.” He shut his eyes, drawing on the surge of spirit he’d felt when he stepped into the windmill. “I have nothing to lose.”

“Good answer! Alright, then, time for your prize, worldjumper!” She pulled the pack off her back and unwound the sheet of straw. She had wrapped it around the sheathed Whistling Blade. Jace spotted a sliver of bright blue glass between the crescent-shaped guard and the leather sheath.

Knew it.

“So that was what took you so long,” he whispered.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Lessa passed the weapon to him. “Take it, before I have to tie it onto your belt myself.”

“Gladly…” Jace held out his hand. He wanted to look at least a little reluctant, but he couldn’t. Where they were going, a bayonet wouldn’t be good enough. “Thanks.” He accepted the weapon, then tied it to his belt on the left side. “We should try to go a little faster.”

They sped up to a brisk hiking pace. Birds chirped and squawked in the trees above, and Jace flinched every time they leapt from branch to branch.

“Great…” groaned Lessa. “I reek of fawlgoat, and the birds hate it. Something about fawlgoats being omnivores.” She continued to mumble to herself, but Jace tuned her chatter out.

By now, he was certain this wasn’t the same trail that he and Kinfild had taken. They hadn’t passed the spirit pond, and they were approaching a small wooden bridge with no railings. It passed over a deep, shadowy ravine. Jace leaned over the edge. At the bottom, something slithered in the gloom. It smelled like rotting leaves and decay.

Not good. But as far as he could see, this bridge was the only way across. Going around would lose them precious time. He shook his head and placed a foot onto the bridge. The wood creaked. He took another step. The wood creaked again, and it quivered beneath his feet.

“I guess that’s where the darklings spend the daytime,” Lessa muttered, looking down at the ravine’s bottom. “At least they’re staying in the shade during the day, still. Sunlight still burns ‘em real good.”

A golden sheet appeared in front of Jace. [Subquest available: Purify Ravine. Reward: Ten (10) Standard Aes Units]

He raised his eyebrows, a little tempted, but they were running out of time. The sheets could wait. He forcefully whispered, “Close. Decline.”

After a few reluctant seconds, the sheet disappeared.

Jace turned back to the bridge. It would be best to cross quickly. The slower he walked, the more time he’d have to lose his balance; there was barely enough room for him to put his feet side-by-side.

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He stepped out onto the bridge, careful where he stepped—he avoided the rotten boards and steered away from any of the splintered wood. Behind him, Lessa’s footsteps clomped.

Halfway across, the branches above shook. Birds.

As if it was trying to stir them up and freak them out, the golden sheet reappeared, this time flashing—and offering the same subquest.

“No, we don’t have time for—”

Before he could order the sheet to disappear, a flock of birds leapt off a branch and swooped through the air between him and Lessa. He flinched and skittered to a stop, but they didn’t fly toward him. They swooped towards Lessa, nattering and screeching. She yelped, wheeling her arms, then slipped.

Leaping towards her, Jace stretched out an arm. He was too late. His fingers barely brushed against hers.

He tried to catch his balance, but he had overextended himself. His feet slipped, and he plummeted off the edge of the bridge as well. A ledge caught him, but before he could stand up, the loose stone and soil crumbled. He fell another few meters, then latched onto a fallen, rotting tree that spanned between the ravine’s now-narrow walls. He slid down the muddy incline. It was steep enough to be a wall.

He came to a halt at the bottom of the ravine. There was barely enough room to stretch his arms out to the side, and his own hands were only outlines in the dim light. A stream trickled along a course of mud and stone. It reached up to Jace’s mid-calf.

“Thanks, sheet,” he grumbled. “Split? That’s what you’re called?”

The golden dust had chased him down to the bottom of the ravine. It formed up into one last message in front of him: [Subquest accepted.]

“Yeah, screw you too. Not what I said.”

The sheet disappeared. Panting, he checked himself. His ribs ached, but nothing had broken—he’d broken his arm before, and he knew what that felt like. He sunk his hands into the stream to clean the mud out of a few scrapes, then shook them off to dry.

He glanced back and forth, searching the darkness. On his first pass, he looked for threats. The shifting shadow that he had seen earlier was nowhere. On his second pass, he searched for Lessa.

There was an orange glow to the left, just around the bend of the ravine. It was her burning tail or her flame-orange eyes.

Jace sprinted along the bank of the stream. He rounded the ravine corner and found Lessa standing upright in the middle of the stream. She was brushing the mud off her blouse and shaking out her sleeves. “Birds…” she grumbled. “They went all swoopy last time Kinfild and I messed with the fawlgoats, too. Only last time, we were actually trying to help herd them. He needed a horn for an elixir, and…”

“Are you alright?” Jace asked, ignoring her comment. Here, the ravine was a little wider, and the stream formed into an ankle-deep pool of water. There were larger banks, and on either side, twisted roots hung off the walls.

“Of course,” she said, stomping a foot down. “You’re good?”

He nodded. “We need to get out of here. Kinfild’ll nearly be at his starship by now.”

They both looked up. Climbing up would be the hard part. Jace paused for a few moments, wondering how best to phrase his question. Finally, he settled on: “Can you…can you shine a little light with your flame-tail thing—”

“Lifeflame?”

“Yeah. Can you—”

A deep growl vibrated through the bottom of the ravine. Jace’s mouth slipped open. He turned around, drawing his bayonet. He flicked the switch on the hilt, and the blade vibrated and whirred.

The opposite bank of the stream shifted. A mound rose out of the mud and peat, sloughing off the debris and pebbles like water falling off a rock. It was larger than any of the other darklings Jace had seen.

An enormous gray fox with empty eye sockets and decaying flesh emerged. It stood twice as tall as him, and a row of ebony spikes ran along its spine.

“Ah, there it is,” Lessa said. “Time to go. Climb, climb—”

There were no ledges to jump to—not nearby—and no footholds to help them scramble up the edge of the ravine. When Jace tried to grab onto the roots, they crumbled in his hands; they were old and rotten, and he was too heavy.

He pointed his bayonet at the beast. It yipped like a fox, but in a deep and fluttering tone. Then it bared its yellow teeth and snarled.

“We can’t fight it!” Lessa exclaimed. “It’s at least level ten.” Indeed, when Jace concentrated, the tag [Level 10 Darkling (Elite)] appeared above its head. “I know worldjumpers are meant to punch up and all, but it’s been passively gathering dark-aspect Aes its whole life.”

But they had no other choice.

Jace inched forwards cautiously. A beast was a beast, and he didn’t need the Split to tell him whether he could or couldn’t kill it. He had weapons, and the darkling didn’t.

He tightened his grip on his bayonet. When he took another step, the giant fox pounced. Jace slashed at its forelegs. The bayonet barely cut through. The beast’s skin was armour; its muscles and tendons were stone.

The giant fox snapped at him with its jaw. Jace scrambled back and away, pressing his back tight against the ravine wall. It rammed its snout at him, but he ducked away.

The fox’s snout smashed into the dirt and roots, saliva dripping from its maw. A droplet landed on Jace’s hand. He leapt to the side and shook the droplet off. Already, it sizzled and burned and threatened to eat through his skin.

“Watch out!” Lessa exclaimed. “The saliva of strong darklings can apply Curses if you don’t have a high enough Resistance rating!”

“Do I have enough Resistance?”

“You’ve got two, it only has one Potency. You’ll resist it for a little bit.”

Jace took a wider stance and reversed his grip on his bayonet. He had to go for the neck. It was now or never.

When the giant fox pounced, he stepped to the side and stabbed at its neck. He extended his arms above his head just to reach, and his swing didn’t have as much power as he had hoped. Instead of sinking deep into the beast, the knife barely penetrated a few centimeters. The beast didn’t even yelp. With one of its enormous paws, it swatted Jace away. He flew across the ravine and smashed into the opposite wall.

Groaning, he pushed himself up. He had to keep the beast’s attention on him, and on him only. He waved his bayonet, the vibrating blade glinting in the light of Lessa’s lifeflame.

The fox leapt forwards again. Jace stabbed his bayonet into the pad of its foot, then jumped to the side. He landed hard on his shoulder, half-submersed in the pond and half on the shore.

When the fox set its foot down, it pressed the bayonet deeper into its skin, and that was enough to make it shriek.

But a bayonet was never going to be enough.

It was time to try out his new weapon. His hand fell, and his fingers coiled around the hilt of the Whistling Blade.