The boy was right. After my night cruise over the waves of Penetration Grass, I needed no explanations. I had basically lived his whole life: from the first, toddling steps on the wooden floor of that mountain hut to stabbing the Ice Hawk with his dagger at our first meeting.

And that made it even harder for me to believe I’d been in Crealia for slightly more than twenty-four hours. The crazy storm of events transformed the past day into a couple of months. My immersion into Kasamarchi’s memories turned those months to years, making the leaping handwalker or stinging Cerberus far more real than that roaring demon from my nightmare. And my whole past life—Mom, school, Kostya—now felt like an old, half-forgotten dream.

The sunbeams pushed the cotton covering of morning mist away to the river, the rocks and leaves sparkling with clear dewdrops. The flames of our campfire, hazy-pale in the daylight, shivered, licking at the dark, wet firewood.

Hidden beneath the fog creeping away, the tireless Lizard’s waters rhythmically rolled.

I patted the baby croc on its back, covered with a freshly grown skin, thin and transparent. Compared to the adult crocoboat—wider than any kayak—the child’s body seemed abnormally narrow and tiny, even though it actually was the size of a sheepdog.

Or a local red dog, I thought.

Out of a fiery ring between land and water will she step. I remembered the prophecy, wondering what else it said about me. Does it mention the Child of Evil’s subsequent fate? Will she leave just as suddenly as she came? Take over Crealia, enslaving its people? Or…or run into a patrol and get killed?

The latter seemed the most likely.

According to that book, Asp and I were real fiends from hell invading this blessed land.

Hey, fiend! Let me take a closer look.

Removing my hairband, I stared at it.

Just a leather snake.

Rather heavy for its tiny size.

A neatly stitched tear in the side.

Its tail topped with a sharp spear.

Nothing out-of-the-ordinary.

Twirling Asp in my hands for a while, I put my hair up again, glancing at Kasamarchi, who was roasting some bird over the fire.

“Do they know about us?”

The meat hissed, roasting on the skewer, bubbling with hot juice and spreading a delicious aroma.

“They’ve probably figured it out,” he said. “If it were only the soldier dogs killed…But the Hawk is dead, too. That’s serious. Few living Crealians, if any, could have done such a thing. Although the Magister’s Raven is silent and no one has seen you yet…and lived to tell the story.” He smirked. “But the Burned One is no fool. The patrols were destroyed on the shore. In the third decade of the month of Blooming. Everything fits.”

“The Burned One?”

“Yeah. The Magister. Half of his head is badly burned. Did you forget? You should’ve seen him, as I did, through Erderak’s Spider.”

Of course.

I hadn’t paid it much attention back then, but now I remembered.

The Council when the clasp transformed into a large black bird.

The clasp’s wearer was pacing up and down the hall, rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger, deep in thought.

The left half of his face was disfigured by terrible burns that stretched over his temple, ear, cheek, and half of his forehead. When he turned his head, the glossy, wax-like skin on his neck made deep folds.

“Yes. I remember now. How did he get burned?”

“No one knows. He came to Crealia looking like that. No one knows from where. Before him, the Magisterium had never been that powerful. They say he hasn’t changed at all over the past fifty years.”

I gazed into the flames.

The Magister must have something to do with my accidental travel.

And that Testament. Did the Burned One write that book himself?

Stop.

So…so he might know the way back to my world?

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Total bull.

Even if he knew, he probably wasn’t hunting the Child of Evil in order to send me back.

Or was he?

No way to find out for sure; I didn’t have any strong arguments to start this talk with the Magister yet. I needed Asp to gain more strength.

Hey? What arguments? What strength? Are you crazy enough to wage war on the Burned One?

Could all of it be just a dream? A very lifelike dream, but still…

I looked around, considering this possibility. Everything seemed very real: the fire, the river, the baby crocs. And Kasamarchi.

…who didn’t seem to be bothered by any of my problems. Or maybe he just appeared not to be.

“They’re looking for us,” he said, staring into the flames.

“Who?” I asked casually, doing my best to contain my anxiety.

“The Magister’s men. And not only men.” Smirking, he added, “The Testament probably describes the way you can go back.”

I gaped at him. Is he reading my mind? Or is all of this a dream?

“What should we do?” I asked in a low voice.

“We must escape into the mountains while we still have time. Since the Hawk saw the dogs slashed by Asp, he called Budrahs from the woods. They didn’t find you; hiding in that burned tree was a great idea. Going deeper into the forest, they wasted time. Coming back to the hoar-frosted glade, they realized what had happened, but they had no dogs to trail us. They had to return to the Magisterium to get a chastener and new dogs. In the meantime, we reached the Lizard. There was no rain, so the dogs will pick up our scent from the glade and take them to where we’d got in the crocoboat. They don’t know about me yet, or about Twina-Twin.”

Glancing at the babies, I remembered the big crocoboat gratefully, wondering where it was now.

Following my glance, Kasamarchi patted one little croc’s spine comb and went on. “Most likely, they will decide you went downstream. While they travel down to the sea and back, we’ll have enough time…to take my Whistle.”

I raised my scared eyes at him and met his intent gaze.

“T-t-take? H-h-how?” I stammered, my lips instantly dry. “It’s guarded by that…that broom…that Cerb…Cerberus…”

“Yes. The broom. But we must get Angel back. Asp can’t do it alone. The Magister knows that he gains strength with each new victory, so he’ll try to corner Asp as early as possible. Sooner or later, they will find us. Asp must become strong by then, or he’ll be crushed. I will help you. But I need my Whistle.”

“Do you think Asp can defeat that…that stingy Cerberus?” My temples were clutched between the icy pincers of panic.

“No other way.” Kasamarchi’s composure was beyond fathomable. “Angel will help. As we will.” He handed me a skewer of meat. “Here. Help yourself.”

I could barely eat, swallowing a few slices and hardly chewing.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

I wasn’t really scared of the Cerberus when I had seen it through Kasamarchi’s eyes. But now…

Trailing over the rocks after the boy, I still hoped that he’d change his mind. Or that the broom would no longer be there. Two years had passed since the events I saw.

“A patrol comes to check on the Cerberus every five days.” Kasamarchi seemed to read my mind again. “Last check was the day before yesterday. That means we have three days to take it and escape into the mountains.” He strolled on without looking back.

How is he doing that?

I could barely keep pace with the boy. Stunned by fear, I could only dream of the time when I’d leave all of this crazy adventure behind.

Kasamarchi kept muttering something about “testing Asp before battle.” Immersed in my own thoughts, I hardly paid any attention.

We turned off the rocky path onto the dark-red, cracked ground, hard as stone. High shrubs flashed by on both sides. The smell of carrion appeared in the air, soon torturing my nose.

“Where are we going?” I asked, covering my nose with my hand.

“To the Stone Porcupine.” The boy striding by my side did not even wince at the smell.

“Why?”

“For a test. I’ve told you.”

“What test?”

“Here.”

We stood on the edge of a large clearing with a stocky tree in its middle. Its wood was the color of ash. Spreading its bare, spiraling branches with sharp ends, it looked more like a stone statue than a living thing. Adding to this resemblance was the empty space around it; no grass grew next to this tree.

The broken fragments of wood strewn across the glade were the same color as the tree. A bit lighter, maybe…

I shuddered as I realized how wrong I’d been.

There was no wood. Only bones—skulls, ribs, vertebrae—in all sizes, from huge to tiny, covered the ground, all around the tree. Small wonder that no grass could make it through.

Thinning out towards the glade’s edges, this scatter of bones was the densest around the trunk. Some fragments still bore the remains of hair or rotting brown flesh. This sight—not to mention the smell—was making me sick.

Lurching, I accidentally stepped on the clearing’s edge. Bones crunched beneath my foot. Jerking it away, I glanced up at the tree. Its gray branches stirred into motion, rising slowly, as though swelling…or taking a breath.

“What’s that?” I asked, turning to Kasamarchi.

“The Stone Porcupine,” he replied distantly, shifting his gaze between me and the tree as though estimating something.

I didn’t like the way he looked at me.

When I opened my mouth to tell him about it, he suddenly pushed me right onto the glade!

You little skunk! I screamed mentally just before my hairband loosened, letting my hair fall to my shoulders…

…freezing time…

…and silencing all the sounds.

A range of options opened before me like a multi-colored fan. All of them were good, so I picked the one where I didn’t have to fall on those disgusting bones.

Time moved on.

Boom! The Porcupine’s branches sprang out, reaching for me.

Asp soared from behind my back. His spear flashed in a short arc…

…cutting the branches that fell on the carpet of bones, regaining their spiral shape right before my eyes.

Leaving the glade in two giant leaps, I saw, from out of the corner of my eye, the tree “exhale” at the loss of a dozen branches.

Clenching my fists, I turned to Kasamarchi. “What are you doing, you punk?”

“Sorry. I had to test Asp on these branches. Their attack is very similar to Broom’s.” He replied without any embarrassment.

“So how’d your test go, Mr. Crazy Professor?” I asked venomously, clasping Asp around my bun, my anger already melting away.

“Passed.” Kasamarchi smiled. “We can go get Whistle now. It’s very close.”

“Shit,” I blurted, my smile creeping away. “Can’t we just skip this part?”

“We can’t, Ana,” he said, starting back up the path and leaving me with no other option but to follow.