“I’m not sure about this,” Brinn signed as we reached our destination, Era following behind. It’s not wise to gallop uphill, especially when dual riding, which was only possible because Brinn and I didn’t weigh that much.

I sucked in a breath. I wasn’t sure of anything either. “We came this far.”

“I know, but something’s not right. He could be lying about the fort. I mean, we haven’t heard this from anyone else. Someone would have raised the alarm by now, don’t you think?”

I knew for a fact that the fort had been attacked, and if that was true, why wouldn’t everything else be? I couldn’t tell Brinn that I’d heard it from a tree, though. She would find me mad.

“And, again, why you?” Brinn looked at the letter in my hand and snatched it. “Hey! Answer the question, or we’ll leave you right where you are.”

How did I not think of that? I could’ve asked any question I wanted, and I didn’t. I guess I was too stunned and baffled to think clearly.

“Really?” Brinn glared at the letter. “Are you really not going to answer?”

The letter went dark.

Brinn moved about and yelled, though I could not tell what she was saying. I slumped my shoulders, unsure if disappointed or relieved. The letter shone bright again, a single word on display.

Sigh.

Then four more popped. A coldness grew in me, and like walking into a terrible nightmare, I understood.

I’m looking for Aureberg.

I took two steps back. Brinn eyed me, a curious expression on her face. “Isn’t that the mountain—”

“What do you want from it?” I asked.

Save me, you doorknob, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.

Well, Small Butter is now We’re All Out of Butter. The raiders are on their way here. Stop wasting time!

Brinn and I shared a startled look, bolted up the road, and soon found the tree in question.

‘Finally! Quick, pull me up.

From there, we could see the whole Guillings region: the distant lights from the city and surrounding villages like orbiting stars.

I nearly jumped to the edge of the cliff, lying flat on my belly so I could look down without the risk of falling. There he was, just like he said he would be, dangling by one foot, swinging from side to side. I know that talking with a magical letter should be proof enough, but you’d be amazed at how skeptical you can be when reality doesn’t make its usual sense. “He’s real,” I said.

Unfortunately, said the tree in a weary tone. What an annoying fellow. Why couldn’t he have tied himself to a rock instead?

“Wait? He did this to himself?” I said out loud, forgetting about Brinn.

Yes. I don’t think he’s too clever. But at least today wasn’t boring. Oh, he is asking you, how could you possibly know he did this to himself?

What could I tell him? Hey, ‘I’m not talking to you; I’m talking to this tree here.’ That was no good. “Hang on; we’ll get you out.”

There was a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Brinn, a glowing letter in her hand. She had a confused expression as she leaned over to see. “You can understand him? Is he signing?”

“Uh...” I said and quickly changed the subject. “Can we use Era to pull him up?”

“He doesn’t sound happy,” Brinn said. “We didn’t bring rope. How is Era supposed to help? The two of us should be able to pull him up, no? He doesn’t look too heavy.” She then stopped in place as if something had spooked her. “Lud, I can hear ekkuhs coming. Many of them.”

My heart began to race. Brinn settled the letter on the ground to shed light on what we were doing, and we both jumped at the rope.

Due to his weight and the fact that we had a tree in the way, I could barely wrap my hand around the rope. I twirled my hand around it and felt my bones squeeze. “Pull me instead,” I told Brinn. She hugged me by the stomach and pulled hard. I placed a foot against the tree and pushed against it.

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Hey, be careful! The tree protested as he bent slightly.

The bones in my wrist complained with each pull, and the pressure prevented blood from reaching my fingertips, making them tingle and prickle as if tiny bugs had decided to call them dinner. The rope nearly slipped from my hand, peeling away some skin and forcing me to grit my teeth to fight the pain. If it hadn’t been for the years of hard work, I don’t think I could’ve held on for as long as I did. Still, it was no use. Despite Brinn pulling my chest with all her weight and strength, I wouldn’t hold it much longer, much less hoist Mathew.

A beak appeared in front of me and bit the rope. I thought Era would snap it free and Mathew along with it. I held my breath as the rope became lighter and easier to tug.

“Good girl, Era,” I said. “That’s it.”

We hauled until a shoe popped up from the ledge. Even in the dark, I could see it wasn’t like any shoe I had ever seen. Brinn let go of me and grabbed Mathew’s jacket hoisting him onto the road and to safety.

Mathew was maybe four years older than me, wore strange blue pants unlike any fabric I had ever seen, and his shoes were even stranger—checkered black and white, and like mine, they had a rubber sole, except the rubber was painted white. Could my dad have made those shoes? He wore a white shirt under a jacket made from a similar fabric to his pants. He clutched a large book in his arms and had an equally weird bag on his back strapped around his shoulders and belly. Unlike anyone I had ever met, his skin was as dark as the inside of a whisky barrel. His lips were thick, his face round with strong cheekbones, and his hair resembled a black sponge helmet.

So that’s what a mage looks like.

He looked at me with his bloodshot dark eyes, frowned, and stumbled to his feet. He took two wobbling steps, dropped to his knees, pressed strange buckles on the straps of his bag, and pulled it in front of him. Grabbing a tiny flap on the side, he ripped the bag’s top apart, put the book inside, and sewed it back instantly by pulling back the flap.

Magic.

Mathew placed the bag back on his shoulders, held his stomach, and curled.

“What was he saying?” I asked Brinn.

“I don’t think he feels very well,” Brinn said. “Mathew, ekkuhs are approaching. I think it’s the raiders. What do we do?” Brinn glanced at where the road curved behind the hill, then at me. “Should we run?”

Mathew raised a finger. “Wait!” I think he said. Then he stood up, wincing.

The letter pulsated with light by the tree, so I fetched it before a gust of wind threw it down the mountain. It read: Give me a moment; I’ve been upside-down a lot.

“Mathew, I don’t think we have a moment. I can feel road shaking! They’re close.”

Mathew frowned at me again. Then there it was. Even in his strange face, I saw the cringe. “Deaf!” I read on his lips, followed by a cascade of words, from which all I gathered was “all people.” I read the letter for clarification.

Can’t believe you got a deaf kid to save me out of all people. Is this the best you can do? Are you actively trying to kill me?

Then Mathew curled again, turned around, and puked.

Uh? Did he not know I was deaf? That couldn’t make sense. Could it? The thoughts escaped my mind as a mass of ekkuh riders cornered into view. Twenty—no. Fifty, more following from behind. Mathew was on his knees, still vomiting, and despite his dark complexion, he was much paler than when we’d pulled him up. The riders raised their spears and pointed them at us. The vibration was so intense it tied my innards into knots. The mass of raiders approached like a wild river after a storm.

Brinn clutched my arm. I glanced at her and saw the fear in her eyes. All this trouble so that we could die trampled. Mathew spat on the ground, rose to one knee, and wobbled to his feet.

You guys just don’t learn, do you? popped up on the letter.

Mathew raised his hands, the raiders barely a few yards away from him, and the road burst into flames. The riders in front took the full blow, riding right into the fire, scaring their rides and sending them galloping right off the cliff. In the panic that followed, many more followed suit, their clothes and feathers ablaze.

The heat reached my face as if I was working the kiln. Mathew poured more and more fire up the road. Between the flames, I glimpsed ekkuhs coming to an abrupt halt sending their riders tumbling to the ground and into the fiery road.

Hope you have good health insurance, the paper read.

Mathew turned to us, lips moving.

I squinted; the figures on ekkuh backs were moving away. They were retreating!

I regarded the paper. Alright, Deafo, now let’s skedaddle.

Was he talking to me? Skedaddle? What in the ordeal was that?

Mathew then took two staggering steps and collapsed on the floor.

I regarded the letter. No more words came up. Brinn and I stared, jaw dropped, at the man sprawled on the road, a sea of flames behind him, slowly dwindling. I glanced at Brinn for help, but she looked as stupefied as I was.

That was amazing! said the tree. Praise be the light! For a moment, I thought I was going to die. I hate fire, but Leohorin’s wrath, that was great! The other trees spoke of this, but I didn’t believe them. What a thrill. What a day! So many men killed.

Brinn tugged on my arm. “We should get him on Era and get out of here. Just in case those raiders change their minds.”

I closed my mouth, tongue dried from having my chin hanging loose for so long. “Mathew?” I spoke to the paper. Nothing. Guess he needed to be conscious to use it. That made sense, I guessed.

We pushed him on top of the saddle, Era lowered her back to help, and we did our best to ensure Mathew wouldn’t fall off tying him with the same rope he came with. We would have to walk all the way back. My new shoes were amazing, but when you buy new shoes, you don’t want to use them for that long—you want to ease into them—and I had pushed them pretty far already.

“I can hear drums,” Brinn said. “The garrison must have been alerted.”

I looked at Guillinsbaer in the distance, fires dancing around the city like lantern-swillows. “We did it, Brinn.” I hugged her, and she hugged me back.

She sighed in relief and signed, “That was stupid scary.”

***

We had barely reached the bottom when we crossed a column of soldiers, marching with conviction, holding lamps and spears, ready for battle. A rider approached to inspect us while we casually covered Mathew’s face, just in case.

Brinn led the conversation for obvious reasons, but the soldier didn’t seem too convinced. His stern, angry eyes fell on me, but despite the torchlight, there was little chance I could read his lips. However, I couldn’t look away from the deep scar on his chin.

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m deaf.”

The soldier cringed, frowned, shook his head, and trotted away as if he wanted nothing to do with me. I don’t know why deaf people are so trustworthy, but I wasn’t about to start complaining.

“What did you tell him?” I asked once they were far enough.

“That we ran from Small Butter. What else was I supposed to say? That we have a fire wizard passed out on our ekkuh? Don’t think he’d take kindly to that.”

“Good thinking,” I said.

“That’s my genius at work,” Brinn said with sunken eyes and ruffled hair. “How do you think Heimee is going to react to this?”

He’d probably give me a hard time. Not just for bringing a strange fire mage with me but for not returning home that night without any warning. Well, nothing to do about it now but to face the consequences.