"You said we would reach the mountain by nightfall."

"What do I know?" said the bowman. "Do you see a map around here? Am I counting every step and measuring it against shadows in the ground?"

Senn had to bite his tongue to avoid slapping the man or reaching for the knife that hung from the man's belt. At night, he not only hungered for food and drink. The knife's blade gleamed just enough in the moonlight for him to want it. He wasn't sure if he would slash the man's throat if he got hold of it. Perhaps. The idea was lodged in his head along with the need to feel a weapon between his fingers. He had found a couple of bones half-buried in the dust, and a small black rock of the kind that peppered the midlands as if a great rain of stones had fallen and the wind had scattered them. He spent the evenings next to the bushfires, hacking away at the bones with the pointed rock. By the fourth night, he had fashioned four arrowheads. They weren't specially weighted like those he normally used in battle, more balanced than an actual arrowhead. It would probably be nothing more than a nuisance to an attacker. Without his speed, he couldn't throw fast enough to pierce the skin. He tried it on the fifth day, against one of the burrowing lizards, but its hide was too tough and it was too fast altogether. The bone arrowhead had bounced off its scales like water off a leather coat.

They were on an upward slope that led to the mountains. Senn had never paid that much attention to them since none that dared venture away from the midlands had returned. Some said there were perils there, great beasts that fed on them. Others said that if no one came back it had to be because life on the other side of the mountains was better, and why would they bother to go back at all? But Senn hadn't even speculated about it. His life had been a struggle, he didn't need to think of any more dangers or hope for otherworldly lands of plenty. If no one had come back, the cold or the heat or both had probably killed them.

The night was already falling, and they had stopped for a rest. The sky was purple and pink, and flaming tongues of heat licked the tops of the mountains. The nearer mountains were bare, but way beyond them there were white-capped peaks that stood even taller. The tales of the hovels said the whiteness that covered them were the remains of dead clouds, those that would no longer move. As they came closer every day, he wondered if their journey would take them that far and if he could learn the truth about the mountains. He had even stopped worrying about what was happening with his army, with Lordstown, the lot of it. Strange how the important things become less so when you're licking the moisture off rocks and covering yourself in thorny bushes by night to keep the cold away. In a sense, he felt like he had when he first left the Hub. Helpless but powerful. In the Hub, he had only been helpless. As the Herald, he had only been powerful. It was a strange combination to be both at the same time.

"I don't get how you'll know when we're there, or if we're going off-mark," said Senn.

"You whine like a Leashed man, Herald."

Senn lunged at him, holding the arrowheads between his knuckles like impromptu claws. The bowman just sidestepped him, and Senn tripped and fell on his knees.

"And you've been relying on your speed too much. No wonder you're aching for this power I told you about."

Senn panted and growled something.

"You're liking this, aren't you? You've always been nothing at all, and now you're the one with the knowledge and the weapons and the vigor, and I'm like this."

"No, I don't like it," said the bowman. "But I think it's good for you to be reminded that you were just blessed by a God, not anointed one yourself."

"I never entertained those thoughts. And if I had, my Lord would have had me flayed. He likes greed in others, but he's selfish and doesn't share what is his."

"He thinks the whole world is his. He made you believe he's the only God out there."

"He is. I've seen nothing but ghosts and tricks of the eye to think otherwise."

"The Lord of Greed was just a 'ghost' when you first met him, too."

"He hadn't breached the Barrier yet, he hadn't been incarnated. But I knew I stood before something greater than me."

"So you'd know it if you saw something like that again?"

"Yes."

The bowman chuckled.

"Then maybe it's you who will know when we are close to our destination," said the bowman.

"You've seen the 'god-child' too. You said you felt its power."

"Not exactly. I knew it was no ghost like those that are talked about in hushed tones in the hovels. It's something else, and I believe it was a God. But we won't know until we find where he's leading us."

"Let's hope your 'hunch' is correct. For all we know, our people are being slaughtered by the Chainkeepers as we speak or fighting among themselves until they're easy pickings. If we're wrong and this leads us nowhere..."

"What? You'll kill me? You chose this yourself, you gambled on me being right. If I'm a crazy man, it's your fault for following me."

Senn grumbled something.

"Are you so used to having things go your way that you can't bear not being in control?" asked the bowman.

Senn sat on the ground, looked at the sun disappearing, and started tearing branches off a nearby bush to make kindling. When he spoke, his tone had changed from outraged and tense to quiet and grave.

"You don't know me. You don't know the things I've had to do, what I've sacrificed. You don't know me, archer. You should be more grateful. You're a free man because of what I started."

The bowman sat down and raised his hood to cover his ears from the cold that was already spreading.

"I am. But you're just a man. You didn't change things yourself. It took others. I bled, too, just as much. You don't know me, either."

Senn didn't answer, but his head moved slowly up and down while he finished making a bed of twigs for the rest of the bush. He grabbed two of the black pebbles he had gathered and struck them together over the dry twigs. It took no more than a few tries to have a weak spark light up a dried flower on one of the twigs. Senn blew softly on the spark and by the time the stars had overcome the sun's brightness, the fire was steadied. The bowman got closer to the fire and warmed his hands.

"You never told me your name," said Senn.

"You never told me yours either."

"But you guessed it."

"Aye. But I have no name to give."

"That can't be."

"I was never named. No one bothered. You need a relative or someone in a hovel who cares enough to name you. I was always 'boy' or 'man' or the number on my chain. I remember it still. But since I became a free man, people call me by my occupation. Hunter."

"Hunter of what? Lizards and scrawny birds?"

"Keeps me fed, and I've managed to feed others too. Don't attempt to slight me. I'm at peace with what I am. Can you say the same?"

"I'm getting tired of you."

"You've made that point already. But you are coming with me anyway, right?"

"Until I find out if you're mad or we get to where we're going. But if you are mad, I'll kill you for wasting my time and putting my men at risk by dragging me into this."

"Then let's hope I'm not mad, for both our sakes."

* * *

Soon after dawn came the clouds, obscuring the sun but providing little relief from the heat. The moisture in the air increased as they began to climb the gentle slope of the nearest mountain. There were no trails that could be seen, and little hope there was one. Getting to the other side of the rim of the mountains -as the bowman said they needed to- would be hard, and Senn's feet hurt. His boots had turned into a few straps clinging to thin and battered soles, and his blisters seemed to have blisters of their own. He hadn't walked that much in years, relying on his canid every time he had to get across Lordstown or out of town. The bowman, in contrast, had boots that showed wear but seemed infinitely more comfortable than his.

"Hey," he said after a particularly rough patch of terrain. "Give me your boots."

The bowman stopped and looked back at Senn panting behind him.

"No."

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Senn lunged forward to grab the man's ankles, but the bowman jumped to the side and managed to avoid him.

"Stop it," he said.

"I need those," said Senn while struggling to get up.

"You need to shut up and walk. Be a man."

Senn's face turned red, but it was more anger than shame that had driven the blood to his face. He got up and walked toward the bowman, stopping barely a feet away from his face. He held the bone arrowheads between his fingers. The bowman put his hand on his belt knife. Senn moved forward abruptly, sidestepping the other man, and starting up the mountain again. The man who called himself Hunter let his hands drop and followed Senn up the slope.

"Be glad that your men can't see you now," said Hunter.

Senn didn't even look back when he replied, and his voice was barely above a whisper.

"The Sparked would have killed me already. And I'd be ashamed of the rest of my army if they didn't try to do the same."

"Aren't you always talking about how much we owe you?" asked the bowman.

"Greed is greed. You should have done the same. But you have no spine."

"Oh, I have a spine. It's just that you're not worth the arrow."

Senn chuckled. "You have a knife, too."

"Aye, but I'm not that good with it. You'd turn it against me."

"You can try. I'm weak enough."

"Stop it and shut up. Keep walking."

They eventually reached a small plateau in their ascent. Ahead of them, the mountains dominated the landscape completely. The brown hues of the plains had given way to darker shades of grey and black mottled with the muted dark red flowers of the bushes on the slopes. It was a surprising sight for someone who had never gotten that close to them, and a sudden change from the sights of his entire life. What else is there beyond the world I knew? For the next hundred steps, Senn didn't even need to remind himself to put one foot ahead of the other. What if the men who had disappeared beyond the mountains were right, and they had found a new life there? Stop it, you cowardly fool. Your life, or the ruins of it, is back there. Ahead there are only mirages. But the pull was strong.

"We'll have to find a way that's closer to the ground," said Hunter. "There has to be a pass or corridor between these hills. The slopes are too steep to keep climbing."

They circled the mountain directly in front of them, moving west and north while scanning the ground for an easier way up.

"Are you sure it's this way?" asked Senn.

"No. But we have to get through somehow, so keep looking."

Senn stopped and sat down.

"What are you doing?" asked Hunter. "Get up."

"I'm doing two things at once," said Senn. "Resting, and finding out how to get up there. See? Look."

The bowman stood still and looked in the same direction as Senn. On the next slope, a skinny goat was coming down their way. It skidded the last few feet and moved on to the slope they were studying. The goat jumped and steadied itself on the black slope. Then it ascended slowly but surely on an unseen trail.

"Come on," said Senn finally. "Let's follow it."

They got up and went after it, keeping their distance. They were downwind, so it wouldn't catch a whiff of them, but they had to be cautious anyway, otherwise the goat would bolt. The first steps were harder, but once they steadied themselves on the grainy slope, they felt the goat trail under their feet. The soil didn't break under their feet, stamped as it was by what was probably years of pasturing. If they strayed just a few feet away, the soil crumbled and they struggled to regain their footing.

"Don't lose sight of it," said Hunter. "Or we're in trouble."

When Senn looked back, he could almost see the trail. The deviations where they had strayed marked the contours of the goat trail, though he wasn't sure he could find it again on the way back. Thinking ahead. Focus on your steps or you'll roll down the mountain.

It took them until noon to get halfway up the mountain, and it was a laborious trek. They sat panting under the partial shade of a boulder. It had to have fallen from up above in recent times, as there was a skid trail of gray dust that led through the black expanse up to the summit. It wasn't likely, but if a rock like that fell on them... there were risks in the mountains they hadn't thought of. He could break an ankle and be left there for the vultures. Senn looked up from his swollen and blistered feet and gazed at the seemingly unending mountains. They were already standing higher than Senn had ever been, and even though the next mountains obstructed his sight, the black landscape beyond scared him in a way the plains never had. He looked back at the midlands and saw them as if it was the first time. As a god would, though he certainly didn't feel like one now.

"How much farther do you think we'll have to go until you find the 'sign' you're looking for?" asked Senn.

"Full of questions you can't stand not having the answer to, aren't you?" said Hunter.

"You should worry too. We don't know exactly where we're going, and there could be anything this side of the mountains."

"You mean, like the giants they used to talk about in the hovels? Hah! I'd like to see one of them."

"You're a crazy son of a whore."

"Probably. I told you I don't remember meeting my parents. A whore is a good bet, though I tend to judge women less harshly than you seem to. Life in the Hub was hard, and even when not being forced night after night, I saw a lot of women find their only solace in between a man's legs. Mothers whose children had been taken from them... they either withered and died or gained strength from someone or somewhere else."

"And you never took advantage? A 'hunter' like you?" asked Senn.

"Men need solace too. When I did it, it was truthful. But love is harder to find than a bunkmate, right?".

Senn didn't reply. A cloud that was moving west was about to pass over them.

"We should get going," he said. "Let's use whatever respite from the sun we can get."

He got up and the Hunter followed.

* * *

Food was even scarcer than in the plains. The roots Senn had found and the lizards Hunter had caught before were nowhere to be found. The red bushes that grew on the slopes had only those red flowers that the goat ate, but nothing else. So they ended up killing the poor goat that had led them all the way through the first mountain's unseen trail. They had to chase it halfway down the mountain again, but Senn managed to catch it and dropped a rock on its head.

"Thank the Lord for his gifts," he said without thinking, as he had done many times before. The thing was, he wasn't sure whom he was thanking, his Lord of Greed, or Hunter's godchild.

"A gift, indeed, given twice. Once to lead, twice to survive," said Hunter, and bowed.

"You weren't so full of faith before," said Senn.

"I was. Why else would I be walking around here half-starved? I have faith, but it's easier to be full of it when you actually get a good roll of the dice once in a while."

They rested at dusk over a black boulder that looked like a bowl. Senn gathered a branches from a nearby bush and after a while managed to light a fire. He skinned and staked the goat, putting the meat over the fire and smoking the leather. He could fashion it into new soles for his ragged boots if given enough time.

"You've finally remembered your outlaw days," said Hunter.

"It comes easier now, with no one around to serve."

"Free men do not serve."

"Why, aren't you ignorant... a lot of 'free men' were all too eager to get under someone's thumb again. That's why there are so many soldiers in my army and rich men in Lordstown. It's just that there's quite a difference between serving others out of your own free will than with a Leash. There's no shame in that, as you like to say. I stopped serving the King and started serving the Lord of Greed. I've served all my life."

"Hah! Then I'm a freer man than you," said Hunter with a grin.

"And is that a good thing? You're free from constraints, but also free of responsibility to others. You speak highly of our 'free men', but I've done more to help them by serving, as they do every day too, than you."

"You seem to have recovered your spirit along with your previous ways."

"I never lost anything," said Senn, burning the other man with his gaze. "I've had two moments of weakness, half my life apart! Will I have to measure everything by those few moments, and judge my entire life as a failure because my knees have buckled once or twice? Go shove a Chainkeepers' hook up your ass if you think that."

The Hunter stared at the goat roasting over the fire. Senn looked at it too, and then shuffled closer and moved the sticks that held the carcass up, to distribute the heat evenly on its surface.

"Good deeds aren't often repaid, are they?" asked Hunter, nodding in the direction of the dead goat.

"He didn't know he was doing us a kindness," said Senn. "It doesn't count."

"It counts if you're the goat, I guess."

Senn smiled, in spite of himself, and the Hunter chuckled.

"What kind of power are you hoping to get?" asked Senn abruptly.

The Hunter crossed his arms and leaned back.

"I don't know. Something useful, I guess. Something like the gifts of the Sparked."

"And what would you use them for?" asked Senn.

"Are you worried about what I could do? One lowly, lonely free man?"

"What will you use them for?"

The hunter's smile wore off, and he leaned forward, arms still crossed but no longer joking.

"For whatever I will."

Senn tensed and looked at the hunter again. A sudden thought came into his mind. Be more careful with this man. He has killed, and not only for food. But as soon as it came, he waved it away. He wasn't about to be afraid of anyone, not even without his powers. Even if he could kill him with ease while he slept or walked in front of him. He averted his gaze and grabbed a piece of meat to taste it.

"Fair enough. I guess we'll find out when we find out," he said before putting the piece of meat in his mouth and chewing.

"I know what you'll do," said Hunter. "And I'm not going to stop you even knowing it."

"Why would you wish to stop me? I'm going to help our people."

"Your way of helping might differ from mine."

"So now you're going to tell me how you would have done things differently?" asked Senn with a smirk back on his face.

"No. What's done is done, ain't no point discussing what-ifs and whatnots. But from now on, I would do things differently, that's all. Why wouldn't you? This could be a second chance for you."

"How would you fight tyrants 'differently'?" asked Senn. "How would you keep your people safe otherwise? How would you keep everyone mostly off each other's throats doing things another way?"

"I don't know. I'd look for a way," said Hunter with a shrug.

"Hah! Keep looking. Do you think I wouldn't have made things even better by now if I could have? That I wouldn't have freed all of the Leashed men and women and children?"

"So why didn't you?"

"Because it would have made no difference, and we would've lost all our 'free men' attempting it. You must remember being a Leashed one. But at some point, you started believing you could be free. We're the chosen ones of our Lord. The other three-quarters of the Leashed never believed it. Never dared to. I tried to drag people out of a burning hovel during one of our raids. I grabbed a woman by her hair and told her to get out. I put her on a cart and turned back to the hovel. The woman ran back to the burning building out of fear. She feared the Chainkeepers more than she feared her imminent death. How do you fight that? Tell me. Tell me, please. Teach me how you force people to change their minds."

Hunter looked down at his hands.

"There have to be ways to do it."

"Then find them for me. I'm too tired to bump against the same stones on the road."

"Then..."

"Oh, shut up and eat," said Senn while grabbing another piece of meat.

The stars started to appear. They were easier to see from the mountain and seemed to exert more influence over the world below.

"Do you remember?" asked Hunter. "What they used to say about the stars?"

"Yeah. But people told different stories."

"Most of them were pretty much the same."

"That they're eyes from above. Yeah, I remember."

"That the sun watches all day and..."

"The stars watch at night, so we can sleep but not escape their sight."

Hunter laughed. "Old women's tales! But why did they think that? Did they start to suspect there was a God watching over them?"

"They must have been thinking of another God. The Lord of Greed isn't all-knowing, and I don't think he has anything to do with the stars or the sun."

"Still, it makes me wonder..."

"What?" asked Senn.

"Why didn't they have hope when they saw a star shooting down or disappearing? It would mean even those eyes could be blinded somehow."

Senn sat back and ate, looking at the stars. It was quickly becoming dark, and under the starlight, he saw something, too low in the distance to be a star, too bright to be a fire.

"What is that?" he asked.

"That, lord Herald..." said Hunter, leaning forward to better see where Senn was pointing. "That is our sign."