As the sun rises and we get ready for bed, I notice a problem. There are five of us and only two tents.

“The others were destroyed by the reapers,” Quell says, apologetically. “But they’re each big enough for two people, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Darian says. “That should give us enough beds for the rest of you. You’ll have to group up.”

Earnest and Xamireb look at each other. Quell looks at me. I groan.

“I can sleep outside,” I say. “Throw on a sun cloak or something.”

“If you’d like to burn through the magic in your cloak and then broil in your sleep, be my guest,” Darian says.

“It’s rather roomy,” Quell adds. “You won’t even notice I’m there!”

I have doubts.

After everything else is packed up, Quell ducks into his tent, and I hesitantly follow.

It’s surprisingly dark and cool. Magic, probably. The tent itself is barely longer than Quell is tall, and not quite as wide. Unfortunately, it’s also at that too-awkward-to-crawl, too-awkward-to walk-upright height, so we both have to crouch. As my eyes adjust, I can make out the form of Quell shuffling to one side of the tent, where he smooths out his sleeping mat. The other sleeping mat is immediately next to his. Roomy my ass.

But I don’t have much of a choice, and weariness is heavy in my limbs. I thump onto the bed next to him, and scoot as far away as I can manage, pushing myself up against the opposite canvas. My armor is uncomfortable to lay in, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to strip off a few layers with Quell right there. He also seems to opt for the all-clothes-on approach. He sets his glasses aside, and rolls onto his side, facing me. His eyes are unfocused, though; probably without dark vision he can’t see me like I can see him. His jaw is working like he wants to say something.

“Nye…”

I roll over, putting my back to him. “We can chat in the morning,” I grumble.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “Alright.”

If he says anything else, I’m not awake to remember it.

----------------------------------------

Despite Captain Darian’s promised watches, I’m never woken up. Maybe she didn’t want to bother the prince. Whatever the reason, when I next wake next, there’s quiet murmurs outside, and when I open the tent’s flap, it’s an hour or so before sunset.

The desert is stained orange and red in the dwindling sunlight. Harsh, yet beautiful. It’s hard to imagine this is how the people here live every day, hiding away from the broiling daylight hours. Not that I blame them. Just this much sun is making me sweat, and I have to pull my goggles on to keep from squinting.

Once breakfast is eaten and everything is packed, Darian climbs up on Poppy, and Quell sits behind her. I hesitate, wondering if there will be enough room for all of us, but Earnest gestures for me to climb up, too.

“Better get cozy,” he says. “You don’t get a personal bubble on the battlefield.”

Grimacing, I climb aboard behind Quell. Earnest brings up the rear, shoving me forward and into Quell’s back. I stiffen as the buffer of space between us vanishes.

Earnest laughs from behind me, also pressing up close. “This should be fun. We’re all aboard, Captain!”

I glance to the side. “What about Xamireb?”

“They’ll be fine,” Earnest says. “Not much for riding, anyway.”

I lurch back into Earnest as Poppy jumps into action, then forward into Quell’s back as I overcorrect. On the bright side, he’s done the same, hand braced against Captain Darian. I mentally glare at Earnest: cozy is certainly one word for this.

“I believe their path curves to the south-east,” Xamireb says from our left. I turn to look. They’re trotting along next to us, their eight legs whirling in unison like pistons of a machine. Yet even I can tell they’re not at top speed. I wonder if riding on a star drake would only slow them down.

“Does that match your tracking, Prince Quell?” Xamireb asks.

Quell squints ahead of us. “Yes, I think I sense something. I’ll let you know if the trail changes at all.”

Xamireb dips their head, which I guess is as close as you can get to a bow while running. “The animals are being evasive. I will check back for verification if I lose it.” And with that, they peel off, racing ahead of the drake as they skitter over the dunes like—well—a spider.

“Animals?” I ask.

“Their affinity is Life arcana,” Earnest says. “Specifically to do with fauna. They can speak with them on a rudimentary level, and even command any that are especially simple. Helps with tracking—as long as they haven’t already forgotten the band of people that passed them by.”

That doesn’t sound like the most reliable tracking method. But I guess Captain Darian trusts their ability enough to stake the princess’s fate on it.

It gets monotonous from there. There’s nothing to do but talk while we ride, a task which Earnest and Quell seem more than happy to lead. They talk about anything and everything, and yet nothing of importance. An interesting rock formation, or an image they see in the night clouds, or the first food they’ll have when they get back to a real city and are no longer living on rations. I wonder how long they’ve been out there.

“You see those stars?” Quell points to the sky, tracing out a constellation. “That one’s Widengra’s ax, they say. It always points from west to east, because he was trying to cleave the night sky in two to bring out the sun, but instead struck the moon, cutting it in half. That’s why there’s two of them.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me this?”

He shrugs. “In case you need to navigate. See? The head points east and the handle points west.”

“Oh.” I squint up at the stars, tracing the shape he’d identified. That’s pretty useful, actually. “Thanks.”

“The other half of the year you can use Yua Tin’s shroud,” Quell continues. “It’s closer to the north horizon, but it creates a T shape you can use to orient yourself. They’re the god of starlight, after all. Always there to provide us light, even on the darkest of nights.”

Huh. Maybe all those book smarts can be put to some practical use after all.

Then Quell proceeds to go off on a significantly less useful tangent about godly myths involving a copious amount of shapeshifting and questionable copulation.

“What about the demigods,” I say, thinking of Zeyaelid. “Are they, like, half gods? The kids of gods and mortals?”

“Oh, no.” Quell laughs. “Gods don’t have children. Can you imagine how many demigods there would be? The gods weren’t born, they can’t procreate, and they can’t die. They simply… are, like the sun and the stars. Zeyaelid is one of Lorata’s champions, which is what makes her a demigod. Sometimes, gods select mortals upon which to bestow a fraction of their power. The Champion acts in the god’s name here in the mortal realm and helps carry out their will. In exchange for their service, they receive amazing powers, and can live far longer than any mortal should. Many devotees spend their whole life hoping to catch the attention of a god and become their Champion. Very few obtain it.”

I frown, chewing on all of this. Quell seems to think highly of the pantheon. Yet, what kind of god kidnaps people? Even if the people in question are unexpected visitors from another world. Okay, that might explain it actually.

“What’s Lorata like?” I ask.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Behind me, Earnest laughs. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?”

“Lorata’s the head of the pantheon,” Quell explains. Oh. Whoops. I guess that explains Earnest’s reaction. “The Seer. She guides the other gods with her light and wisdom. It’s said that thousands of years ago the heavens were in disarray, and their discord caused destruction and devastation here in the mortal realm. It was Lorata who finally united the gods and restored order to the world. She’s been maintaining that peace ever since.”

She doesn’t sound like the kidnapping type. Maybe she can even be reasoned with. Surely, someone who is known for wisdom and peace would be willing to talk things out. Maybe I shouldn’t have hid from Zeyaelid that night. I wonder where Hans is now? What Lorata might want with him?

Perhaps a mystery I’ll never learn the answer to.

We only break up the ride for a brief moonlit lunch, and even then only long enough to dig the food out of Poppy’s side bags. Darian and I chew on some smoked wyvern meat, while the others share jerky, crusty bread, bruised fruit, and some sort of green strips of chopped vegetable that I strongly suspect to be the spoils of a certain murderous cactus. Then, it’s more riding.

Quell and Xamireb often exchange information on the invisible trail they’re following, double checking their heading against each other. At first I listen in, curious about the magic they’re discussing, but it quickly becomes boring and monotonous reports on geography that mean nothing to me.

Darian’s words from the night before come back to me, suggesting I speak to Quell about my blood magic. I suppose I could do that—I’m sure he’d love to go off on a tangent about obscure magic. But I have another source I can poke at for information, first.

Echo, I think. What do you know about blood affinities?

[A magical affinity for blood falls within the school of Life arcana,] Echo says. [As with all fields of magic, the element in question can be manipulated either via spells or Attunement. A specific form of biomancy, applications can range from using one’s own blood as a weapon, to controlling the movements in others.]

Well that sounds horrific. Unsurprising why it’s not a popular magical affinity to advertise. Knowing I could be capable of such things chills me. Not that I would want such powers.

But if it came down to fighting for my life, could its use be justified? Can I afford to ignore such a potentially powerful magic just because I find the idea unsavory? What if Álvaro’s life was on the line.

Yes. Without question: I’d do it for him.

What are some other applications? I ask Echo. Anything more along the self-defense route?

[Affirmative. Advanced hemomancers can temporarily withstand blows via precise control over their own blood just beneath the area of impact. Users may also have the ability to make their wounds scab more quickly, stemming blood loss.]

Now that sounds pretty useful. Can I do that? I ask Echo. Do I know those spells? Or can I learn them?

[The user currently has no innate spells.]

Aw, darn.

[However, spells may be unlocked upon Attunement of the target element.]

That gives me pause. You mean Attune blood? Someone else’s?

[Any blood may be targeted for Attunement, so long as it is not already Attuned to a different mage, and the user is in direct contact with said volume.]

I grimace. I have to be touching it? This just gets better and better. Obviously I’m not going to go stick my hand into the dead carcass of an animal somewhere and take its blood. I mean, maybe that wouldn’t have been a terrible idea if I’d known about this yesterday and had time to spend with one of the dead reapers, but I still find the idea highly unappealing.

Of course, Echo has made it clear that I don’t have to work with other people’s blood. I can Attune my own, right? I ask.

[Affirmative.]

That’s probably how you’re able to do all those defensive techniques she mentioned—and probably how you can turn your blood into a weapon to be used offensively, too.

It’s creepy. It’s very, very creepy. But if this is the magic I have to work with, then ignoring it would be a handicap, and I’m not the type to turn down an advantage when I’m offered one.

How do I Attune my blood? I ask.

[Attunement is achieved through a meditative state where the user attempts to achieve resonance while in direct contact with the target element.]

Being in direct contact with the target element is not going to be an issue.

[The quantity of element one is able to Attune is dependent upon the mana expended.]

That might be more of an issue. I have fifty mana, according to my stats. How much will that get me?

[Fifty ounces.]

I frown. Is that a lot? It doesn’t sound like much. Wait, how much blood does a person even have in their body? I have no idea. They don’t teach you this shit in school.

Not that it really matters: I’m limited to fifty ounces, so that’s what I’ll work with.

Okay. Now how does this work? Echo said it was some kind of meditation. I close my eyes and focus inward. Is this right? Is this how it’s supposed to go?

The rhythm of the star drake is monotonous and steady. I can feel every time one of her feet pounds against the sand, drumming through my body like a heartbeat. Like the ocean tide. And gradually, I think I can feel a similar tide moving through my body, ebbing and flowing.

My mind drifts, thoughts becoming abstract. My consciousness seems to swirl through my body, carried along like a leaf on a stream. There’s a cycle here. A metaphor for something bigger than me. Blood magic isn’t evil—it’s not a repulsive element to be ashamed of. It’s Life. It’s healing. It’s warm, and strong—the will to live incarnate. It’s a beautiful thing. It’s me.

“...Nye?”

A hand squeezes my shoulder, and I jerk upright, blinking through disorientation, my mind rousing slowly as if from sleep.

[Attunement complete.]

Quell’s looking at me, his face pinched in concern. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah.” I glance around, surprised to find we’ve stopped. Darian and Earnest have already dismounted, and Xamireb is heading in from the desert. Warm colors stripe the sky, chasing the stars away.

“Were you asleep?” Quell asks, perplexed. “Everyone got down but you. But you stayed upright. Can you sleep sitting upright? Actually, that’s kind of impressive.”

I climb down from Poppy’s back. “I was trying to do an Attunement.” And from what Echo said, I think it worked.

“Attunement?” Quell repeats with a frown. He slides down after me. “How can you…” His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh! Oh. Wow. I’d heard it was possible for blood affinities, but I’ve never met anyone who’s done it. What’s that like?”

I focus on my body, try to focus inside my body, and to my surprise, I can. I get the distinct impression that if I wanted to, I could reach inside myself and move the blood there any way I like. I decide not to do that.

It’s a strange sensation, being able to sense myself this way. I wonder what it will feel like when I’m Attuned with all of my blood.

“It’s weird,” I say shortly, grabbing a tent roll from the star drakes back and beginning to untie it. “What do you mean you heard it was possible? Should it not be?”

“Well, not all magical affinities can be Attuned,” Quell says. “The affinity has to be to something physical—or a direct magic source. Like, I have illusion magic. There’s nothing for me to touch in order to manipulate an illusion: I just have to use my mana to manifest it. And even some elements that are physical are impossible or impractical to Attune. Like, fire or lightning, for instance. You can’t exactly meditate while touching either of those for an extended period of time. And even if you did, how would you hold onto the bit you Attuned? Once that flame goes out, that’s it: it’s gone, and now you’ve got to start over and Attune some more. Seems like a bit of a waste, doesn’t it?”

I’ve clearly dug into some special interest of his, because he doesn’t appear anywhere near being done. I drop the tent roll to the desert floor and then grab the next bundle that needs unpacking.

“I’ll be curious to see how your blood Attunement works,” he says, his eyes lighting up. “How long do you think it will last? Will it need to be renewed occasionally as your body creates new blood? Or is it a ‘one and done’ type of thing? Fascinating. But it’s good to hear you were able to manage it; that will come in handy in a pinch.”

I tip my head. “What do you mean?”

“It takes mana to cast my illusions spells,” Quell says as he paces near the firepit Darian is outlining. And I mean that literally: I watch in fascination as she draws a circle in the sand, fills it with all sorts of complex lines and squiggles, and then holds her hand above the circle. Both her palms and the lines of the circle illuminate with orange light; the sand moves, reshaping itself into a fire pit. Xamireb brings over an armful of dried shrubs and begins to set them up for a fire.

“It takes mana to do any kind of magic,” Quell continues. While he lectures, oblivious to the work others are doing, I start to help Earnest set up the tents. “Including Attuning something. But once you have Attuned something, that object is part of you; you can control it without spending any more mana. At least, until it’s destroyed, or you lose it. So that’s why having something Attuned is good in a pinch. It means you’re not defenseless, even if you’re out of mana.”

“Weapons work just as well for that, Prince Quell,” Darian says. “And a sword never runs out of mana.”

Quell wrinkles his nose. “It’s just so crude.”

I glance at him skeptically. “Doesn’t matter if it keeps you alive.”

“Precisely,” Darian says. “Now, my prince, if you wouldn’t mind assisting with dinner preparations…”

“Oh!” he says, as if he only now noticed the campsite unfolding around him. “Sure! Of course.”

Dinner is more of the wyvern meat, warmed by the fire and served on slates of stone Darian conjures from the sand. It was good when I was starving, but I suspect the novelty will soon wear off.

Earnest also grumbles about the food. “I can’t wait until we can get our hands on something not dried, smoked, or salted.”

“That might be sooner than you think,” Xamireb says. “If my heading is right, we’re a week out from The Coil.”

Earnest frowns. “You think they’re taking the princess there?”

“If they needed to resupply, it’s the closest neutral city,” Darian says. She also doesn’t look pleased. “They might be able to find faster steeds there, too.”

“I will almost certainly lose track of them in a city,” Xamireb adds. “At, least, the way I’m capable of tracking them.” They look to Quell.

“I might lose Liz’s trail, too,” he admits. “It would be tough to drop illusions in an area with so much foot traffic, which could easily be disrupted or dispelled within minutes.”

“Then we’ll need to go fast,” Darian says. “Rest today. After that, we’ll rise early and rest late until we find the princess or arrive at The Coil—whichever comes first. For the Moonfall agents to be diverting to a city instead of heading straight for home, they may be desperate, and this might be our best chance at catching up. Be ready for anything.”

The meal passes in uneasy silence, everyone buried in their own thoughts. The firelight glints off Quell's glasses as he stares into the flames with grim determination. I’m sure he’s scared for his sister and eager for this to be over. Hopefully, someday soon, I’ll likewise be closing in on my brother.