Simon had warned us that we might not always be able to pick up where we had left off on our travels through the realms. Fortunately, this time we had no such trouble. We walked through the back door of his shop and into the same patch of jungle that we had departed from on our prior visit. I knew it was the same place because I could still see the marks in the loamy ground from the box of orichalcum we had with us at the time.

The humans clutched their weapons and looked in all directions. I didn't bother; I could hear all the little animals moving around in the canopy above us and the overgrowth around us, and I could smell a rich tapestry of scents (none of which were sulfur!), and there was nothing nearby that was interested in us except as something to hide from.

"This is different," Marcus said, relaxing back to a fully upright posture.

"Glad to be out of those tunnels from the last place," Estelle agreed.

"Hot," Eugene said, looking around. "And wet."

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't the one wearing a floofy fur coat. As to the 'wet' part...yes, taking a deep breath felt like sneezing backwards.

"Where are we going?" Estelle asked.

Marcus fumbled in his pockets until he found the pouch of guidestones. He shuffled through them until he found the one that was glowing.

"That way," he said, pointing off to the left. "Estelle, hold the mark for a second."

She positioned herself in front of him, right arm pointing in the direction the guidestone said we needed to go in order to find the way out of this domain. As soon as she was set, Marcus moved off to one side, watching carefully for the guidestone's direction indicator to shift.

"There we go," he said, holding his arm out. He looked down at the guidestone to verify his sighting, then came back and joined us. "Hard to get an exact measurement without better tools, but the direction barely changed over the course of fifty feet or so. Wherever we're going, it's a few miles at least."

I looked at each of my friends, then around at the jungle that surrounded us. The light was viridian, syrupy and slow as it lazed through the filters of thousands of leaves. Animals and birds chattered and caucused around us, and the sound of skittering feet and the scent of teeming life lingered in the air. Sightlines were sixty-ish feet at most and then everything was hidden amongst the teeming vines, massive fronds, and dangling curtains of moss that dripped from the shoulders of trees that stood like aged titans, sleeping away the days of the world. One thing that was very clear: Getting lost here would be very easy and very dangerous.

"Excuse me," I said, clicking over to my character sheet and then to the Skillweb, where one particular node sat, previously unlocked but never acquired.

Perk: Enhanced Tracking Rank: Uncommon Duration: Permanent

Your tracking skills increase tremendously. You will be able to follow the tiniest traces.

Bonus! Your 'Enhanced Senses' Perk interacts with this Skill! Your tracking abilities will be raised 5x more than usual! This stacks with all other bonuses.

Given your bonuses, your tracking abilities will be beyond what is normally possible for your species.

Bonus! The spiritual sensitivity granted by your 'Dyadic Unity' Perk interacts with this Skill! Your tracking abilities will be raised 10x more than usual! This stacks with all other bonuses.

Given your bonuses, your tracking ability will be pushed into the realms of legend, amounting virtually to postcognition.

I clicked 'Attune' and confirmed the purchase.

1,944 Attunement spent! You have attuned 'Perk: Enhanced Tracking'! 100,776 Attunement remaining!

The world blossomed open around me, sensory impressions swirling together like woodsmoke to add shading and nuance.

There: A pawprint basking in a sweet brew of rodent pheromones. Twenty-two or -three minutes old, given the current wind conditions and humidity. Made by something more like a shrew than a rat, despite being roughly nine inches long. Female, gave birth within the hour. Missing the third toe from its hindonpaw. The injury was a birth defect, not an injury. Its foreoffpaw was bleeding and the animal was going out of its way to leave a trail for the russet-furred vulpine enemy that tracked it. The predator's attention had been so riveted that it failed to notice brushing up against a fallen log and leaving a few hairs behind. The rodent was drawing the enemy away from its new babies. There was a hint of emotional resonance; the mother had a mate. The babes would not be left alone in the world.

There: A fleck of torn bark on that tree. A bird had landed there, probably late yesterday based on the degree of fading from the sunlight bleaching the newly-exposed wood. The bird was small, not bigger than my nose, but with sharp talons. An insectivore judging by the way it had dug open the ant hive growing out of the folds and crinkles of the tree bark. A few angry ants fretted back and forth, repairing their destroyed home while fussing about the imperfections and lack of regimentation in the world.

There: A glint of sunlight showed strands of silk thread strung below that fern. The soil was rumpled where the spider had buried itself, the very tips of its jaws hiding just below the surface where they could react to the vibrations of something touching one of the strands. The spill of soil showed where the creature, for its size and in this small patch of jungle the apex predator, had rushed out two hours ago, bowling over and stinging to death the large grub whose hollowed-out carcass lay abandoned beneath the folds of a moss curtain.

"Athos?" Eugene asked, not aware of what I'd done or the effort it was taking to integrate the new rush of awareness. "You feeling okay, buddy?"

"I'm fine. I just bought the Enhanced Tracking Perk so that I can find you guys if we get separated. One second."

There: Faint disruptions in the way that moss curtain hung. Something had brushed against it two, perhaps three hours ago. Something about thirty-eight inches tall. Bipedal, with clawed toes, based on the tiny indentations in the dirt below the moss. It hadn't been alone. There were at least six of them in the group. One of them had been itchy; furious scratching had left a broken claw tip and multiple scales on the ground. Another had done poor maintenance on its armor; there were flecks of rust on the ground and a broken link of metal smaller than Marcus's littlest fingernail. The metal was an old soldier, once strong and proud but now battered and scarred and worn down by the years and the accumulated damage. No more did it stand alongside its thousands of brothers in defense of their commander. Now it lay on the forest floor, broken and alone, with all its duties discharged and nothing more to do but rest until the end of days. Its brothers would go forth without it, arms linked around their commander to fend off the blows of whatever came.

"Wait, you bought a tracking skill? Now, of all times?! Not a combat skill?"

"Shut ya yammer hole, Geney-poo. Da boss is busy doin' smart stuff."

"Don't call me that, imp."

"Sure t'ing, Geney-poo."

"There were some creatures through here about three hours ago," I said, nosing towards where the broken link of chainmail lay. "Six of them. Bipeds, about three feet tall. Claws on hands and feet, scales, and they're intelligent."

"How can you tell?" Marcus asked.

"They travel like a military squad, not a family group." I stepped closer and gestured towards the tracks. "They're moving in pairs and they maintain precise spacing. Animals wouldn't move together like that, and they don't move in straight lines over long distances—they divert slightly from side to side to check on a possible bit of food, they pause under cover to look for predators, and so on. Also, the three pairs move in a line so that they're stepping on each other's tracks, confusing their numbers. Plus, they're wearing chainmail." I went on point, my nose almost touching the broken bit of metal.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The humans gathered around, taking care not to step on the tracks as they bent down to see what I was pointing at. When they recognized it for what it was, all three of them muttered various expressions of displeasure.

"You could have led with the chainmail," Marcus said, amused.

I panted happily. "My way was funner."

"'More fun'. 'Funner' isn't a word."

"Sure it is! I just used it."

Estelle chuckled. "He's got you there."

Marcus shook his head in mock outrage. "I have been defeated by superior logic."

"If you guys could actually focus for one second," Eugene said. "These are mitoki, right?"

Marcus and Estelle shrugged helplessly.

"I didn't think they were real," Marcus said. "Still, three feet tall, scaled biped with claws, warlike, with metal armor, in the middle of a forest? Sounds about right."

"That's a chainmail link?" Estelle asked.

Eugene scooped it up from the dirt and shook his hand slightly to cast away the rich loam that had come with it. He held the metal up so we could see it. It gave me a thought.

"Marcus, hold out your spear, please," I requested.

He frowned but did as I asked. I ran my tongue carefully over the shaft of the spear near the crossbar, then sampled the flavors of the speartip itself, taking care not to cut my tongue.

"Athos, that's a little gross," Marcus said. "I'm not entirely comfortable watching you do that to my spear."

"Eugene, may I taste your sword, please?"

Eugene studied me nervously for a moment, but then he drew his blade and held it out, flat side up. I touched my tongue to it in a couple of places and then, since Estelle had gone along with the program without need of being asked, I tasted her swords as well.

"I thought maybe I'd be able to tell the difference between different kinds of steel," I said. "I can tell them apart, but it's subtle and I'm not sure what the differences mean."

Estelle looked at the tiny fleck of rusted metal. "I wouldn't try tasting that. You'd end up swallowing it."

Fair point. I shrugged.

"We've got a bunch of mitoki moving through the jungle right where we got dropped off," Marcus said. "Do we follow them or avoid them?"

"What's a mitoki?" I asked.

"Liminal spirits of earth and forest," Eugene said. "Some stories have them as protectors, some have them as hunters."

Marcus saw my confusion. "Most spirits are associated with a domain—forests, houses, whatever. Liminal spirits belong to the edges, the places where two domains blend together. Forest spirits like dryads live in trees, but mitoki are supposedly spirits who live in shallow underground warrens in the heart of ancient forests. Their biggest trait is the ability to weave plants and minerals together. Their warrens are guarded by bushes with metal leaves as sharp as swords, that kind of thing. There's a famous set of stories about Good Queen Helena befriending a tribe of mitoki while she was recovering from the second time she was deposed. They made the armor and the chain whip that she uses in the rest of her stories."

"Are they dangerous?" I asked.

"Very."

"Let's avoid them, then."

"No, we should go find them," Eugene said. "According to the legends we can make friends as long as we're open and honest, and they give great loot to their friends."

"This isn't a story," Marcus said. "Plus, treating someone like a Pick-a-Prize isn't a thing you do with friends."

"Don't try to twist this around on me. That's not what I meant and you know it." He glared. "Dude, what is your problem? You've had it in for me since the beginning, and I don't know what your problem is. I found the route, I paid practically all of the bills, I found half the members of the caravan, and I got a lot of the money we needed to fund this little trip. All without scamming anyone."

"Yes, because being born with a rich daddy is definitely a worthy character trait," Estelle said. She had shifted slightly while I wasn't paying attention, placing herself ninety degrees offset from Marcus so that if Eugene faced either of them the other would be on his flank.

"I had to sell basically everything to fund the caravan, bitch, so—"

I huffed an interruption. "Perhaps we could focus on the current situation?"

Everyone took a breath.

"Right," Marcus said. "So. The guidestone is pointing that way," he gestured off into the jungle, about thirty degrees from the path the (presumably) mitoki had taken. "Based on how little the angle changed we're going to be traveling several miles at least, maybe a lot more. Do we follow the stone and ignore the mitoki, or do we follow the mitoki and try to make contact before doing the stone? Following the stone means that maybe we don't have to interact with the mitoki at all, which would be safer...but if we do meet them then it's going to be them ambushing us and feeling slighted because we're trespassing. If we explicitly go find them then we're taking a chance on them being pissed off and killing us, but we'd also be showing respect by asking permission to pass through their territory. Assuming they didn't kill us we would have permission to move around the woods without being in danger from them and, if we're really lucky, it might even result in some help or a mutual gift exchange."

"Gift exchange?" Eugene asked.

"Yeah. Estelle and I each brought some bits and bobs. Shiny beads, cheap but pretty jewelry, sweets, that kind of thing. What, you didn't?"

Eugene said nothing and looked angry.

"Athos, you're being quiet," Estelle said. "What's your opinion? This is ultimately your trip."

"I changed my mind. I know I said to avoid them, but now I say let's go find them. It's more polite and as long as they aren't going to just kill us on sight I think that's important."

The three humans all digested that for a moment, and then nodded with varying levels of reluctance.

"Fine," Eugene said. "I'll lead. Athos, you go in the middle with Estelle, and Marcus brings up the rear." He nodded to Estelle. "And before you ask: The one with the bow should be in the middle so she isn't jumped without warning."

The look she gave him was utterly impassive. "And maybe the tracker should be in the front so the leader doesn't stomp all over the tracks we're following?"

The muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. "Fine. Athos, you're in the lead."

I chose to ignore their quiet little spat. Instead I set off after the mitoki.

The little forest spirits left very few and very faint traces, mostly too faint for the humans to notice. To me and my newly enhanced powers of tracking they stood out like flares.

I followed the trail in silence for at least twenty minutes, pausing occasionally to look around and listen for any hints of our quarry being nearby. The humans stayed in position behind me, their weapons ready and their faces grim. They were starting to sweat within minutes; long pants and jacket was good clothing for a fight but it did poorly in a jungle. Still better than a floofy fur coat, though.

After a while I gave up on being quiet and decided to distract myself. {Murray, will other demons and spirits be able to understand me? I'm specifically thinking about the mitoki.}

"Nah. Translaytah imps gots special awareness and spirit-readin' powahs. Sure, da ability ain't unique ta us, but it ain't bog standard neither. Ya shouldn't be surprised if a spirit or Extoinal can undahstand ya, but it's safah ta assume dey won't. No way ta know wid da mitoki, but I don't see why dey would."

{Oh.} I considered for a moment. {What's an External?}

"It mostly covahs summoned critters, plus a few extra bits heah and dere. Ya friend Bjorn, what got Patched in? He's a mortal, not an Extoinal. I'm a Extoinal 'cause I got summoned ta Hellsport. Lord Gliv's herald, da one dat da Council wanted to give da orichalcum back to? Dey prolly came t'rough Simon's door, or one ah da oddah PortalCo representatives' doors, so dey wasn't no Extoinal. Da hazdahem and all da oddah demons what was stompin' around? Dose was likely summoned by da herald, so dey was Extoinals. So, yeah, demons an' imps are sometimes Extoinals and sometimes not, dependin' on how we got dere. Whichever we is, we ain't spirits; we gots actual physical forms even if dey ain't wid us and we is just in a shell dat our summonah put togeddah for us."

I cocked an ear at that. {That isn't your real body?}

"This old t'ing? Nah. When demons and imps get summoned somewheres, our actual embodiments get decohered and invested inta a mystic construct dat da summonin' spell creates. Dis t'ing I'm wearing looks like me, and it's stitched togeddah wid bits of me, but it ain't really me. Dat's why its hahd to kill imps when we ain't at home. Ya need a spiritual weapon dat will strike at our essence instead of just breakin' up da way its tied togeddah."

"Maybe we should be quiet now?" Eugene said softly.

"Why?" I asked via Murray. "We want the mitoki to know we're looking for them, right? The whole point is to be polite and seek them out so that we can ask permission to travel in their home."

"Is that what you want, intruder?" asked the forest spirit, stepping out of a nearby fern with barely a ripple of leaves. He (his pheromones clearly labeled him male) was as I had imagined him: Bipedal, with claws on hands and feet, and covered in varicolored scales that varied in size from 'tea saucer' on the chest to 'pinkie fingernail' around the eyes. His face was too mashed-in to be a proper lizard snout but too bulbous to be a human face either. He wore a metal shirt of chainmail that didn't jingle as he moved and he carried a sharpened stick longer than himself, holding it in a two-handed grip with the pokey end pointed straight at my eyes.

The forest rustled around us as three dozen more of the creatures melted into view.

My ears flipped up in excitement. "Hello! I'm Athos, and it's very nice to meet you," I said to the one who had first spoken, presuming him to be the leader. I plopped my bum down and cocked my head, giving him a tongue-loll of approval. "Congratulations on being so sneaky. In a good way, I mean. I didn't hear you or see you or smell you at all, and I've got a really good sniffer. Especially after buying that enhanced senses thing that one time." I paused for a moment, head cocked in thought. "Although I'm going to give myself a little slack on that last bit. There's no wind at all so nothing to carry your scent. Still, I didn't see you or hear you either." I looked closely at him. "Your scales are pretty. I especially like the ultracetacean stripes. I don't think the humans can see them, but they look really nice."

The mitoki leader blinked, a nictating membrane flickering back and forth without obscuring his vision. After a moment his posture relaxed and he let the spear drop back from 'ready to fight' into 'good walking stick' position.

"You certainly don't look or talk like the slavers," he said. "Who and what are you?"

I glanced back to see who wanted to take this one but the humans all gestured 'go ahead' at me.

I scratched my ear with a hind paw; the humid air was making me feel matted and itchy. "I'm Athos, like I said. These are my friends, Marcus, Estelle, and Eugene. I'm a dog, they're humans."

"And you are in our jungle because...?"

"Oh. Well, see, funny story. I was at home, playing frisbee with Dad and Cassie—except I thought of her as SmolFriend at the time, because I wasn't smart yet. Anyway, Dad threw the frisbee into a graveyard and I went after it, but then I got Patched—that means transported between worlds—into this place called the Patchwork Realms. I got hit by this glowy-ropey thing that turned out to be a Skill and it made me smart. So then I wanted to get home, but—"

"This has the sound of a long tale," the mitoki leader interrupted. "I think perhaps you should meet the Chief and tell it to her. She definitely wouldn't believe me if I simply described you and I've no wish to be out here longer than needed or to hear this twice." He waved the other mitoki to relax. "It's sure enough that you four aren't of the slavers, so perhaps there is something we can do for one another. And, although we aren't whatever these 'Pick-a-Prize' things are, it's possible that we could have a gift exchange. Sweets are always nice. Now come along."

He turned and glided into the greenery.