After another handful of restless hours, drifting between sleep and the cold earth, the suns lit the sky pink over the treetops to the west and I dragged myself up to my feet. It seemed Lenya had eventually fallen asleep, so I called to her to wake. Alator and Raik, shockingly, were already up and preparing the vessel, shaking the salt-crusted sail and scrubbing the sides of the hull.

Without more than a few words, we all clambered into the boat. With only two thwart planks for benches, and with Alator and Raik taking first shift rowing, both Lenya and I made initially for the little resting perch by the stern.

“Don’t even think —” she started.

“Ugh,” I muttered, and instead sat between the benches with my legs curled up to avoid Raik’s heavy trunk-like, leathery feet.

An hour or so in, without so much as a word, Lenya grabbed an amber glass bottle from a pile of rags on the boards beside her. Before we could warn her, she had taken a deep, if dainty, sip. IMMEDIATELY she wretched and spat the mouthful out all over the boat.

“Easy! That’s my stash!” Raik jumped to his feet and ran over, snatching the bottle back from her and burying it into the deep pockets of his coat. He returned to the mast thwart, took up his oars, and grumbled for a good quarter-hour, something about ungrateful and rude and stupid and precious brat.

Eyes streaming, she turned to rest her chin on the gunwale, shutting her eyes against the rising heat of the water.

Save for Lenya getting in the way at every possible moment, the routine went as normal. In fact, we made better time.

With [Vigour : Endurance], I could, at least for a few hours at a time, keep up with the steady rowing of Raik’s sea-sure arms. The periods of rest in-between felt like agony as my Skills and body, both absolutely spent, punished me for their overuse, but we made good progress, and I didn’t let up until the heavens turned pink-red against the east-setting suns.

I’ve spent enough bloody time on this water!

“Keep . . . pushing yourself and . . . you’ll collapse — won’’ do us . . . any good, then!” Raik laughed drunkenly as the rosy sky faded to grey and the first stars gleamed.

I waved a hand and finished a waterskin.

“Don’t worry about me. How much further do we have to go?”

Raik thought a moment, a sailor’s instinct pressing up against the alcohol, swaying. For some reason or other, he licked a finger and raised it to the pressing wind.

“I dare say . . . we’ll reach Ith-Korr . . . a couple of hours . . . after dawn ’omorrow.”

“We’re . . . that close?” Alator grunted through oar-exertion.

“Aye . . . seems ’o me,” Raik nodded and took another little swig.

“If it’s only a couple of hours, let’s press on for the night — as soon as you feel you need to catch your forty, by Jove, tell us and Alator and I will do the rest.”

The old coral-folk, salt-water steaming on his massive shell, lightly tilting side-to-side as he rowed, quickly took me up on that offer and nestled into his makeshift cot between the thwarts. Alator moved to take his place and I sat on the centre thwart. Lenya covered her a heavily suppressed yawn with her fingers and didn’t meet my eye.

The stars glimmered and the quartz Ribs were lit shimmering by their light, guiding us along coast. This leg of the journey was excruciating, and I had to stop a few times and shake off my arms and knees to cope with the pain. [Vigour : Endurance] continued to be invaluable, but after a dozen or so uses throughout the day, the effect was only slight and wore off quickly.

It didn’t help that Raik’s snores were raspy and irritating, and Lenya at my feet had curled up into a preternaturally peaceful little ball; her fiery hair the only thing that was visible over the mound of robes and linen blankets.

Ahead of us, the grey trees of the dead or dying forest grew denser, gnarled limbs became less twisted and gradually the unlife was replaced by a deep verdance something like a jungle. Massive leaves dotted the treeline, lit only by the faint starlight, their slick bark flashing with moisture and dotted with patches of bioluminescent moss; the whole gloom of the place was soon suffused by a sapphire-emerald glow.

But the change of scenery wasn’t enough. Eventually the pain was too great. My arms were sodden with cold water and every muscle in my body had that profound, weighty, near complete uselessness. I slowed my rowing and my shoulders slumped in complaint. In a sudden fit of panting as my effort left me, I gasped:

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“Alator, I —”

I started, but at that moment he pulled my shoulder to turn. He did look quite spent — his face was sallow in his own pain, but I hadn’t noticed many of his yellow eye-flashes throughout the day, so I guessed he still had a massive amount of Skill use left in the tank. But he didn’t just tap me to show his exhaustion; both of us stopped rowing and the ship bobbed to a scraping glide against the water and Alator extended his hand over the Boiling Sea.

At first it was only a shadow in the distance — a dark blur on the horizon — but as my eyes focused and adjusted, I began to spot tiny lights within it and an enormous flickering shape loomed. In the starlight, I could see thousands of lines of sparkling vines, lit by the same green-blue glow as the jungle surrounding it, extending down from an enormous shelf canopy of a dozen absolutely colossal trees.

I kicked Raik awake. He spluttered and groaned, so I kicked a couple more times, harder. His leathery skin felt like I was kicking a car tyre. Eventually he reached a massive cracked, clawed hand over the gunwale and pulled himself up straight-backed.

“The Hanging —” he coughed and spluttered for a moment, his voice a dull grindstone, and tried again: “The Hanging City of Ith-Korr. Not my favourite place in Barbican, but my word it’s a sight to behold.”

A new burst of energy in our arms and cores carried us to the shoreline where Raik indicated, and as soon as we slid onto the land I spilled out of the ship like a liquid, falling sprawled on the forgiving sandy soil.

Even at the coast, the ground was soft and uneven beneath a thick carpet of fallen leaves, which were caught up in the soft lapping of waves from the Boiling Sea and choked the tide. I dug my fingers deep into the soil to feel the cool earth. Every vein in my body bulged strain and my nerves shot warnings across my mind with every heartbeat.

Raik stood on the ship, lazily readying a cot on the bottom boards, as he clearly did often when he was using the ship without passengers. When done, he stood up straight and leant a foot on the stern, leaning down to us.

“The gates of Ith-Korr ain’t far from here, ye’ll find a road a little ways north that’ll take ye there and they’re manned at all hours. She’ll likely never leave your sight, ’ose red trees are so damned tall, but if ye do lose her, just re’urn to the coast and follow it up. You’ll reach the City in no time.”

“Thank you, Raik.”

“Yes, Captain, my condolences for not being able to properly thank you,” Lenya said, her chin up. “But never let it be said that those of the Hoary Gold are not munificent; before I make my glorious return to my World, I shall ensure you are handsomely recompensed. At least we can buy you a new coat.”

“This is my —”

“All right! Onwards!” Lenya declared, and took a step towards the tangled mess of thick wet bark and shifting vines, then stopped, bit her lip, and turned back to us. “Perhaps you two better go first.”

“Yes, perhaps we better,” Alator spat and pushed past her, almost knocking her to the ground. As soon as he stepped through the first layer of ferns and ivy it seemed he was instantly swallowed by the jungle.

Groaning, I pulled myself to my feet, centred myself and peered into the stream of my inner power. The water was near-still and murky like clay around my feet. The Skills still glinted there, some stronger than others — the two-part burnt orange [Vigour] lights were nearly entirely dulled, though the crimson red [Battle Tactics] and steel blue [Weapon Mastery] still sparkled.

“Goodbye, Raik, and give my thanks to Madam Kal of the Coral Wraith for the recommendation.”

The old coral-folk sailor nodded, then shrank back underneath the gunwale, his shell just visible over the stern.

I stretched out high as I could, weaving my fingers and popping every joint, twisted sharply to both sides, then gave myself a hard slap in the face and set off. Lenya watched me with her eternal half-bemused, half-confused cringe, then set off after me.

Past the first tree, the humidity hit me like a wall — stifling and steam-hot. My sandals sank into the dark, soft ground, muffled by the dense air. The not wholly unpleasant smell of damp and rotting leaves wrinkled my nose. Even the starlight was suffocated; the canopy high above let through small patches of indigo sky and what little light it allowed turned the place a near-pitch grey-blue and grainy like a reel of old cinema on its thousandth replay.

Stumbling after Alator, we caught up to him as he tore vines and thick bushes apart with his bare hands. We were both quickly glistening wet with sweat and exertion. Lenya remained utterly pristine, daintily stepping over the leaves, barely disturbing them, as she worriedly glanced about, using her staff to keep the sticky flora away.

Starting to feel like a grumpy Dwarf in her presence. . . .

After just a quarter-hour, thoroughly convinced we hadn’t endured the tiniest fraction of hardship that the jungles of Ith-Korr had to offer, we came upon the road Raik spoke about: a track of dirt at least ten yards broad, wagon-wheel-rutted and mostly clear of debris — clearly well-travelled.

I doubled over on the hard ground, hands-on-knees, and gasped the relatively cleaner air. Alator came to my side and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Not far now, I’m sure,” he said, and that yellow glow came on his eyes for a moment. I believed him, and it felt like a weight was lifted from me. I straightened out, breath steady, a little more life in my body — despite the difficult trudge, it had seemed to give me a bit of an edge back — and I nodded.

We set off tamping down the trade road side-by-side, with Lenya following after as I suppose a noble might do while being escorted. Every now and then we heard a cry or distant groan from within the jungle and heard the elf-princess shriek and start behind us, or come up close behind, but nothing came of it. At intervals, golden smoke rose from Alator’s eyes as he twitched his head around, then turned to me and signalled safety through the night.

Ahead of us was a sharp bend, tall, a twisted crop of trees on one side upon a steep embankment, and a sheer cliff of red stone to the right, funnelling the path through. Still a few hundred yards away, Alator held up a hand for us to stop. He ducked and moved into the utter pitch-darkness of the trees, and we followed the same way.

He let a moment to pass in silence, eyes closed, then they shot open and his bright blue eyes, their own light within them, met mine.

“Bandits in waiting,” he whispered.