Once at the top of the cliff, I stop and catch my breath before speaking to the Shard.

“How much longer do I have to get back to Earth. I didn’t miss it, did I?”

My arms shake and ache.

The priest isn’t dead yet.

Are you fucking kidding me? I glanced down the cliff, and sure enough the minotaur was climbing the sheer face of the cliff; using my hand holds and footholds. It had already gotten more than halfway up.

I pick up the staff off the ground and jam it into the ground right outside of the slanted shack.

“Oh you Gnomes; faithful servants of Gob the Glorious, and you Undines; thou warrior-maidens of Necksa the Beautiful; I call upon you for conflict at my feet. Glorious conflict, oh thou spirits of earth and water, and move the very earth itself!”

The cliff shakes and shifts and slides as it falls into the sea with a thunderous crash. I glance down. I can’t see him. I stare into the bleakness for a couple of minutes, and nothing below the crashing wave stirs.

“Is it done?”

It is.

Finally. What a tenacious bastard. I hope all of them aren’t like this. I pick my knife out of the grass and hurry into the house, grab the bottle of Johnny Walker, and hurry downstairs. I avoid looking at the individuals within the pile of bodies as I toss myself into the blackness.

A moment later I am lying on my back in the mud; rain falling down on my face. I push myself up, and wince. Muddy bills sit behind me. A handful of 100’s, and a single ten. I slip them into my pocket. I slosh inside the trailer grasping my side, covered in mud and cold water. Ah, what I wouldn’t give for a hot shower. How long has it been? A couple of weeks, at least, right?

Nyt sits on the same bed, and Clio curled in her lap.

“You’re wounded? What could have wounded you?”

“A minotaur?”

“A what?”

Right. I suppose the Efrans have that frame of reference.

“Large creature, dark yellow and black, pointed horns.”

She shakes her head.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I don’t know. Never seen anything like it. What was the area like?”

“Hm. Seaside and ancient. In the distance, I could make out a few things through the fog.”

“What things?”

“Buildings — temples, homes, palaces maybe. And statues.”

“What did the statues look like?”

“Like giants watching over the bay.”

“Giants?” The Ir’s ears perked up, “I think I know where you were!”

“Where?”

“The Land of Giants,’ is what we call it; though that’s only what the Expedition journals called them.”

“Expedition journals?”

“Yes. It’s an ancient fabled land. One of the first to fall to Roki, nearly 1500 years ago.”

1500 years? It took the God of War that long to conquer Efra? A world that technologically backward? Perhaps I was worrying too much about things.

“All but one died, and he wrote a best seller about, in which he described the land of a ‘land watched over by placid giants of stone.’”

“Why send an expedition there?”

“It’s been theorized that it’s Roki’s homeland, so they were sent to see if they could find a way to kill him. That’s when we learned of the Pieces, but that’s all we really know. Hey, if you ever find yourself back there, please bring anything you can find back! I’d love to study it.”

I nod. Of course, I would. The idea of finding a long-lost civilization ignites a boyish sense of adventure within me, but where would we keep it? In an old JanSport? A 70-liter bag? No, we’d need a base of operation. Here? No. Without hearing from them, those humans loyal to Roki still around would surely come to check on them. Perhaps I could find some cave or something to set up base in. It’d be best. I couldn’t keep taking Clio and Shadow with me, and hoping that they don’t get caught by a stray bullet, or killed when my position gets found out by the government.

I know, however, that there are abandoned homes hidden away in the hills nearby; and even some off-the-grid type homesteads tucked away there. When I was younger; during my high school years, I would wander these hills with friends for fun. I don’t remember exactly where I would run into these abandoned farmhouses, or even if they were still around, so I figured I would take a look.

With that in mind, I sit on the floor of the small trailer, cross my legs, and close my eyes.

“Tay-ah-tuh, gah-tay, gah-tay, para-gah-tay, para-soom-gah-tay bodhi svaha.”

I repeat the mantra until my mind leaves my body, and I find myself floating above the trailer. The orchard spreads around me cast in deep blue hues. The rain passed through me and pelted the plastic slanted roof of the trailer. I could hear it all around me. I will myself in the direction of the hills. Thousands upon thousands of doors; entryways into our world, lay between me and the hills. The number is sickening. How many hidden armies lay in there?

High in the hills, about fifteen miles away from our current location, tucked against a ridge so that it was mostly hidden from aerial view, and within a large grove of unkempt fruit trees, I find it; the perfect place. An old farmhouse abandoned god knows when. I wouldn’t have been able to spot it if it weren’t for the glare of light coming from it. White Cultists had set up there and had fortified it well. From the black smoke billowing from the shed in the back, I could tell that there were quite a few generators running as well, which meant that there was electricity running to the place. Perfect.

I cease the mantra and snap back to reality. I don’t know how long I was out for, as Nyt, Clio, and Shadow were already fast asleep. Oh well. I suppose we’ll set out in the morning. I nurse the bottle of whiskey until, at last, I can sleep.