Bors took in a deep draught of breath before finishing his prayer to the Mother Mountain. He felt blessed to witness the grandeur of her former glory. It is truly a spectacle to witness Her as She was.

A soft susurrus of words trickled into his head. Thank you, Bors of the Hidden Mountain. You've done a great service as my bearer.

"I'm not worthy," he replied, his words a whisper of True Martian tongue. "I—"

I would be unable to be moved if you weren't worthy, my child. As if to give an example, the sword trebled in weight, Bors arms felt wrenched from the sudden weight that drove the sword point deep into the Martian grass and soil. It then changed to its normal weight in an instant.

"Thank you, Mother." He stood, feeling a new confidence buoy him. He looked around for the rest of his party. Though his eyes went to the majesty of Olympus Mons again and again, he was still disoriented by the sight of it. Finally, he sought Little Bird and the shaman. He saw the Little Bird, where he had been before he started the ritual. The shaman, however, was hovering over him with her dragon perched on her shoulder. She turned her face to Bors, and she looked stricken.

Bors bounded forward towards his charge and the shaman. "Bors," came the voice of Tessa, tinged with fear. It made Bors turn to see her waving towards him. "I think something is wrong with Tosh."

"Little Bird?" Bors asked, looking down at the prone form of his charge. He reached out to touch the sleeping man when Tessa stopped him with a violent slap to his thick calloused hand.

"Stop! Don't touch him," she shouted, eyes going wide.

"Why?" Bors looked at his charge and noticed a pallor starting to grow from one side of his face to the other. "What is going on?" One hand wrapped around the old hilt of Mother as he looked down.

"Damn it, I told him to be careful," Tessa said, planting her hands on her hips. "Damn fool." Her dragon growled and hissed at the inert form of Little Bird.

"What's wrong, shaman?" Bors asked, looking at her.

She looked at him, pulled up short by the remark "I am not a shaman. I…" She stopped when she said this, looking at Bors. "Maybe I am to you." She nodded to herself and then at her dragon companion.

"You have a dragon, that means you are a shaman of some power," he said. He had not known a single wise woman or shaman of the Martian tribes to have a dragon.

"I am not, but that isn't important," she said, waving her hand at Tosh. "What is is that he is on the burrow of a Soul Eater. It has already started, and now Tosh can't wake up, or he'll be without a soul."

"How do we save him?" Bors asked, feeling a sickening plunge in the pit of his stomach. I've already failed as a guardian. As he watched, the shaman revealed a pale tentacle sliding along Little Bird's side. The flesh of Little Bird was paling as the tentacle caressed the skin.

"How do you feel about battling something in his mind?" Tessa asked. He turned to see her biting her lip, eyes flickering back and forth from Little Bird to Bors and back.

Bors clutched the hilt of his sword a little harder. "The Soul of the Mother is with me, I will—"

"No, it won't be real… never mind." She reached out to take his hand. "It is strange, usually the soul-eaters of this place go after women. Rarely do they attack men."

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Bors thought better than to say anything. It wasn't his place to reveal anything about Tosh. Bors knew what Little Bird was, but Tosh was Bors' charge as well, and that came with a certain amount of respect to privacy.

"What do I—"

Before he could finish, Tessa snapped a hand up, her first two fingers tapping the center of his forehead above his eyes. He felt his body grow heavier and heavier. He tried not to fall to one knee, but he felt himself yanked downward. His eyes closed. His knee hit the ground, but it wasn't the soft loam of ancient Mars that was. It was hard-packed clay tiles of ochre color.

He looked around, finding himself in a lavishly-tiled, wide hallway. It wasn't like The Master or the one of the vile creature, The Drumgag. He saw a young girl turn her face from Bors as she followed a man in dark red silks. She had on a snowy white silk robe.

Bors spoke with hesitation, "Little Bird?"

The girl turned her head, a long, black banner of hair swirling as she did. "Who are you?" She asked, her face confused for a moment. She turned back, saying over her shoulder, "Come on, we have to stay close to Father."

Bors stood up, following. The voice was more childlike, nor was there any stubble. He felt as though something was finally put in place with Tosh and who he was…she was.

"Toshlynn, attend!" The thunderous shout of Tosh's father snapped both Tosh and Bors to the tall, robed form. He had turned to see Tosh had fallen behind. His eyes blazed with a dark fury.

Tosh scurried toward her father, head ducking low and apologizing. "I'm sorry, Father. I—"

"You are a weak thing, I understand," her father said, touching the child Tosh on the shoulder. "You can't help what you were born as."

Bors stepped forward, blinking, and he saw Tosh as Bors had met him in the prison. Taller, lean, and with a hint of stubble on his face. The banner of black hair was gone, cropped short, his head bowed with shoulders slumped at the words of the man before Tosh. "I am sorry, Father." This time, the words sounded more like the words of the Tosh that Bors knew.

"Tosh, that isn't your father," Bors said, moving closer and witnessing the image of Tosh's father growing more and more nebulous. He drew Mother's Soul. He felt a veil dropped from his vision to see a huge wormlike creature with wispy tendrils that connected to Tosh, who was looking at Bors. He looked like a marionette, unable to move on his own.

"Bors, why are you drawing your weapon? This is my father."

"Your father thinks you weak?"

"Yes!" Tosh screamed. "He always thought I was weak. Always thought I was wrong. I'm a weak man, never comfortable with what I was. Even though I knew was given the wrong form."

"Tosh, you're—"

"You aren't right, girl!" The voice of Tosh's father reverberated through the ochre hallway. "You're a freak. You should give in—"

"No!" Tosh shouted, sinking down to his knees before the creature.

Bors reached forward to help Tosh pull back further from the towering wormlike thing. "You're not weak," Bors hacked at a tentacle slithering towards him. "Tell him."

"You're wrong. I'm not weak." Tosh looked at Bors. Then turned and said it again, with more strength, "I'm not weak! You're wrong."

Bors moved closer, reaching out to grip Tosh by the shoulder. "You aren't. You are more clever than I. Tell him."

Tosh turned to the creature. "I am a man, Father. I am not weak."

With an unnaturally loud keen, the creature's wispy tendrils pulled away from Tosh.

"We are leaving," Tosh said. He took a step away from the creature. It roared and plunged towards the two. Bors stepped in front, slamming Mother's Soul up into the creature. The blade bit deep into the creature's translucent flesh. Pale blood, little more than water, erupted from the creature as Bors stood in front of Tosh, shielding his charge. He held the stance until the wormlike creature was still, dropping to the floor of the hallway in two sections. As the creature dropped, the hallway grew more indistinct and fuzzy.

Bors turned to see Tosh was covered in the oozing muck of the creature's blood. "Thanks," Tosh said, wiping the ooze from his face and shoulders. "Couldn't you have tried something less messy?"

"I saved you," Bors said with a chuckle. "Don't be such a preening bird."

Tosh smiled back and smiled. "Thank you, Bors."

"You're welcome," Bors said, smiling at the thrill of combat that still sang in his blood. He gripped the Soul of the Mother and told her in his head that it was enough. There was resistance, yet he felt the sword yield. "We should leave."

"How?" Tosh asked. Looking around, the hallway grew hazy and indistinct, yet they remained.

"I have no idea."

There was a jolt, and Bors felt himself rocked to his knees. He blinked and saw Tosh on the ground, groaning.

"What was that?" Tosh asked, gripping his head.

"That was a mistake," Tessa said. "I told you to be careful."

Bors was about to rise up when something struck him in the back of the head. The last thing he heard was Tessa screaming and Nix letting out a growl and hiss before Bors was unconscious.