Appo sat in shock as Tomi fell. He had just watched her nearly destroy the entire ridge, summoning a power he could barely fathom even after having seen her abilities multiple times. But it had mattered little. Tomi and Uten were dead.

“‘Bring them home,’” Erish’s voice echoed in Appo’s head. “‘Promise me.’”

In an instant, Appo’s shock gave way to despair. He wept. He wept until Isbibarra approached, dragging his camel behind. Gizzal struggled, his screams muffled by a bound gag.

“Do not do anything foolish,” said Isbibarra, calmly. He reached out, hoping to help Appo off the ground. Appo didn’t receive it.

“Why?” Appo asked. He avoided Isbibarra, his gaze still locked onto Tomi's body. He hoped for a sign of life. A lone jerk. Something.

“Because they insisted," Isbibarra said, his face expressionless. "We both know they should not have come.”

Appo struggled to find the words, and his sadness slowly morphed into rage. Isbibarra pulled out his knife.

“I know what you are thinking, healer. I can feel your anger.”

“They were kids!” Appo suddenly screamed. “They were kids and you killed them! How could you fucking do that?!”

“They knew the risks!” replied Isbibarra, matching Appo’s volume. “Did I not warn them to stay home? I did not come all this way to be a babysitter! It is no one’s fault but their own! The moment they killed the Krazeek, a debt had to be repaid. I could not have done it with you or with the Head. This was the only way.”

“The- The only way?! You left us there to die! Does that mean nothing to you?”

Isbibarra raised his dagger and pointed it at Appo. “No more of this. Remember why we are here. Hate me or not, we continue.” If the blind man was at all troubled by what he had done, he did not show it.

“No,” said Appo. “I’m done.”

Isbibarra sighed, pulling the camel behind him. Gizzal tried to yell through his gag and Isbibarra placed the dagger around his neck, drawing blood with the sharpness. “They were children, yes. But are you willing to let two deaths doom the rest of Ostior? Will you let the screaming plague claim the rest?”

Appo looked into Gizzal’s panicky eyes. The Head was far from innocent, but he didn’t deserve to die. Neither did the rest of them. Appo needed to get into Zabukama, by any means necessary. But he couldn't escape the feeling that Isbibarra had planned it as soon as they arrived.

“Very well,” said Isbibarra as Appo rose. “Lead the way. We are going to the gate.”

Appo frowned, suffocating his fury. If Isbibarra was leading them to their deaths, there was nothing either could do about it now.

As the Appo rounded the outpost, he overheard a cacophony of whooping and hollering coming from the gate, growing louder as they approached. Hundreds of Krazeek were waiting for them. The gate of Zabukama blocked out the setting sun. In the shade, Appo saw the gate was twisted and warped as if something the size of a mountain burst through it. Several holes and tunnels opened through the sides of the walls, containing at least three or four Krazeek each. A few threw brown globs near them, and Appo realized in faint shock they were tossing feces at them. Fortunately, they passed them all harmlessly.

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About ten Krazeek jumped to the ground, keeping a cautious distance from the group as they approached. Appo recognized one, as it waved at them with a seared arm, pink from fresh burns. It hissed at the three, showing its massive crooked smile. The other Krazeek responded in kind.

Isbibarra stepped in front of Appo, holding his dagger in the air. He held it outwards, angling it for all to see.

“Off-er-ing!” Isbibarra enunciated loudly.

The Krazeek ceased their jeering. Isbibarra repeated it a few times, allowing the Krazeek to soak in the syllables.

Appo’s rage spilled over again. Isbibarra’s discretion regarding Zabukama was making more and more sense. “There was never a secret passage,” he asked, not expecting an answer.

“Off-er-ing!” Isbibarra repeated. The Krazeek became silent. Isbibarra turned, lowering his dagger, and briskly returned to the camel. Appo shut his eyes, preparing for Isbibarra to kill him.

He never touched him. Instead, Isbibarra pulled Gizzal off the camel. The Head cried as his body landed on the ground with a thud.

“Off-er-ing.”

The Krazeek erupted in hollers, all grinning and flashing their teeth. They jumped repeatedly, some slamming their elongated limbs into the ground. As the shrieking continued, Isbibarra crouched over Gizzal, showing him his dagger.

“I want you to know that I could have picked anyone. The Krazeek care not for the quality of their offerings. I simply want you to appreciate the effort I took to bring you here. You are probably thinking, 'Why me? What did I do to deserve this?'" Isbibarra's brow furrowed, his pale eyes staring with the ferocity of daggers. "Mikal repeated the same thing to me for days before he turned."

Gizzal screamed through his gag. Tears streamed down his face.

"Think of it this way: your great-grandfather likely did the same. It is appropriate, no? That you meet your fate the same way he earned his?” Isbibarra dragged Gizzal by the feet, who thrashed against his grip.

“Isbibarra!” Appo cried, but it didn't matter. Everything was out of his control now. He could only spectate.

“I remember that night so long ago,” Isbibarra said smiling wider than he had ever done before. “When smoked the drawstring together in the moonlight. It was a sweet moment, no? I almost had second thoughts… You asked me, ‘Do you plan to kill me?’ You remember?”

Gizzal shook his head in desperation.

“You should have asked me if you were going to die. Perhaps then I would have told you the truth.”

With that, Isbibarra let go of Gizzal, backing away towards Appo and the camel. As he did, the Krazeek slowly approached, poking and prodding with thin wooden rods and long black fingers. Gizzal continued to cry as the Krazeek surrounded him, each flashing their wide smiles. Their pokes grew more aggressive, each pulling Gizzal’s bound body in different directions. Gizzal’s weight mattered little as they seemed to drag and toss the overweight Head with ease. As Gizzal cried, the burnt Krazeek lifted his arms overhead and slammed them over him. The others fell in line, beating him. Hundreds more cheered them on.

Appo could only watch in horror. At some point, Gizzal’s gag came off, allowing his screams to fill the massive corridor of the gate. This only incensed the Krazeek further, and their hollering grew to a deafening volume. At least twenty surrounded Gizzal now. Eventually, they started using their teeth. Gizzal’s screams became anguished cries. Streaks of blood flew, becoming chunks of flesh. The herd of Krazeek dragged their victim to the walls, but not before Appo spotted a bit of intestine flinging through the air. They then disappeared into the wall, leaving nothing but a thick, bloody stain where his body had once been.

It was too much to take in. Appo only stared at the ground as the Krazeek dispersed, leaving nothing but the twisted metal of the gate in their way.

Isbibarra nudged Appo forward with the hilt of his dagger. “Onward, healer.”

The two passed into Zabukama, now completely unopposed.