Lictor raises an eyebrow and picks up a pear. He bites into it, wrinkles his nose, and lets the pear drop to the ground. ”I always forget I don’t like that one. Anyway, yes. Approximately. Obviously, some rides don’t last the whole day. This day has been much faster than the first day. I’m the fifth War Janitor. Three have retired already. One has died.”

”Two days? How long was the first day?”

”Collectively, maybe a decade.”

I nearly choke on a grape at that. I hack and cough and miss the opportunity to ask anything.

His eyes start wandering and he keeps talking over my coughing. “We had a lot to do. I won’t go into details of how we got the artifact. That’s not something you need to know. The relevant thing you have to understand, and internalize, is that no amount of planning and preparation is too much anymore. We used the first day researching, planning, building and perfecting the whole system. Recruiting the perfect people to be Janitors.”

I finally manage to catch my breath and raise an eyebrow at that. The way Lille often did to me, when she felt I was feeling too confident for my own good.

”It’s not a boast,” he says quietly. He lowers his gaze to his hands and rubs his fingertips against each other. ”Being a Janitor requires a very certain kind of personality, who can tolerate things that would drive most people insane.” There’s a tone in his voice that sounds like he’s reciting something from memory. ”You have to be physically suitable for using the Mountain Ride repeatedly, more than anyone else normally does.”

Maybe it doesn’t matter if I believe or understand this part. At least he’s not trying very hard to sell it. Perhaps he knows that I will get it. Or that I won’t? I start to understand why Lille was so angry at them. Talking with a Janitor is not something I would do for fun.

He cranes his head back and his eyes stop at something on the ceiling. I look up, but there’s nothing there.

”The reason why we are in a hurry and why you are here is that we’re at war.” He lowers his gaze from the ceiling and fixes it on me. “We’ve been attacked. Ruthlessly, without any restraint or mercy. Whole of Velonea will be razed and burned, and its people massacred, unless we stop it.”

”What! Attacked? By whom?”

”Kerthar. And before you say anything, yes, I’m sure. No, there is no reason. We don’t know why. And the attack began four days ago. Word hasn’t spread yet, but it will.”

I sit, stunned. I’ve never been further than the forest around the village, but I know of Kerthar. Gran taught us about the world and Kerthar was always just a far-away place somewhere to the east of the continent. A decent, normal place, by all accounts. ”Why would Kerthar attack…” I stop mid-sentence, as I realize Lictor already answered the question. I lower my face into my hands and rub my eyes and brow.

”Because you’re the best we could find. And believe me, we spent a good time searching.”

That would have been my next question. The answer makes my cheeks flush with pride, but it still doesn’t make sense to me. I scratch my ear and lick my lips. I have to ask. ”There are many better hunters in the village. Faster, stronger, more experienced. Why not Lille or Ral?”

”You’re not yet taking into account what I told you earlier. Think it through.”

I stop and bite my lip. He has already leaned back and is again shifting through the fruits. He picks up one thing at a time and considers it for a moment, before placing it back or into his mouth. I might as well not exist. ”I’m here… because I’m the best specifically for what you need to get done,” I start. ”Not because I’m necessarily the best in any sort of general or other way?” Saying it doesn’t come easy, even though I know it has to be the answer.

He keeps picking at the fruit. Maybe he nods at me, but I’m not sure.

”You have something very particular that needs to be done, and maybe you’ve actually tried to get Lille or Ral or one of the adult hunters in the village to do it, but it didn’t work out. They wouldn’t even know you’ve done it.”

”Correct.”

I reach for an apple. They look amazing. Everything on the table does. I take a bite and chew while I think. ”You said you’ve already had this discussion, too. I’ve already accepted the mission, maybe even tried to do it. Because of that, I’m here for real.”

”For real, good way to put it,” he says and rubs his hands together. ”Now we can get to work.”

I’ve scooted to the edge of my seat, leaning toward Lictor. He’s still rubbing his hands and now faces me again. ”We have been gathering a team. You’re the last member. We know you’ll fit in… well, we know you’ll work well together with the rest, might be more accurate.”

It’s probably true. I’ve always been good at working with others. Helping where I can, staying out of the way when I can’t. Even Lille has said as much. ”I see.” I take another bite out of the apple.

”You will,” he says. ”I like you. I like all of you. You’re brave. Selfless. Ready to do the right thing. That’s why you have been chosen.”

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His voice rises from his chest, thick with pride. His mouth is firm but his eyes soft. He nods at me as if to convince me of what he just said. The contrast to the earlier discussion is stark enough that I hesitate. I want to believe him, but I remember Lille’s warning. He might just be manipulating me.

”You’re too much in your own head. This far into the day, it’s very hard to orchestrate anything. There are too many variables, too many minuscule actions, that can shift how things will play out. At the moment, I have no advantage.”

I shake my head. He sounds sincere. What the hell. I don’t really have a choice at this point. I know I’m going to do whatever mission they have for me. Not because they are making it happen, but because I know myself. This is the moment I have been waiting for. I might as well embrace it.

Lictor suddenly stands up. ”I think you’re ready. We can go meet the others. Then I’ll show you what we’re up against.”

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The door has no handle on the inside, either. He opens it with a gesture, leads me back into the corridor, then gestures again to close it. He’s a mage of some kind. I know next to nothing of magic, but I can see how easy he makes it look. A single fluid movement, incorporating minute flicks of his fingers, drawing a complex tangle of symbols into thin air. Each of his fingers draws a separate symbol at the same time. I can’t peel my gaze off from it. It’s too smooth. It feels unnatural.

He gestures again as we walk, and another door opens much farther down the corridor. He walks in and as I follow him, I realize a group of people are looking at me. The room is similar to the one with the fruits: small and luxurious, with even the same furniture - a table and two couches. Just the fruit platter is missing.

One man lounges alone on one of the couches. He’s even larger than Bann and more tanned than anyone I’ve seen. The sides of his head are shaved bald, but a thick tail of bright copper hair reaches over his shoulders. His eyes are slightly slanted, and he nods curtly at me when I step in. There’s a preposterously large curved sword leaning on the sofa next to him.

On another sofa, there’s an actual elf and a girl who looks like she’s just been picked off the gutter. I think she’s about my age, but it’s hard to say under the grime. Her hair is remarkably thick, long and dark. It wouldn’t need to be much less tangled, and it would be glorious. Her feet are on the table and I can see her bare feet through a hole in the sole of her boot. Her gaze smolders as she gives me a look from below her brow.

The elf rises up and bows low. He’s the first of his kind I have ever met, but he has to be one. His ears are slanted and his hair fine and shiny. There’s not a single wrinkle anywhere, but the look in his eyes reminds me of Gran. His face is relaxed and open. I could tell him anything. ”You must be Locke,” he says.

I nod and bow back to everyone in general. The tanned man places both fists on his knees and keeps them there as he bows, still sitting down. The girl just grunts.

”Pleasure to meet you. We’ve heard much about you from Lictor. I believe we’ll make a great team,” the elf says and smiles. ”My name is Mandollel.”

He sounds so gentle and strong at the same time. Are all elves like this? It feels unfair. ”I’m honored to be here. My name is Locke… as you already knew.”

The girl chuckles. She flicks her head to throw a tangle of hair from her face. She has high cheekbones and lips that I feel Lian would kill someone to have. ”Name’s Finna. And this whole thing’s stupid.”

The huge man turns from me to her. ”You know how important this is.” There’s an accent to his speech that I can’t place. There’s twice the normal amount of consonants in the words when he says them. Understanding him is going to feel like exercising. ”We are called to act! Our madness will burn the world.”

He must be from Kerthar! Judging from how alien he looks to me, from further away in the east, where the barbarian tribes live. I haven’t seen anyone sit like he does. He’s practically vibrating with tension, like he’s focusing on the task with all he has.

Lictor clears his throat. ”Only Rworg knows what is actually happening in Kerthar.” The name has at least four syllables, as he says it. It rolls off his tongue effortlessly. ”The rest of you will learn soon enough.” He steps into the middle of the room and spreads his arms wide.

I recognize the gesture and take his hand. The rest seem to recognize it as well. Rworg picks up his sword and grabs Lictor’s opposite arm below the elbow. His fingers wrap around his whole arm. Mandollel lowers a hand on Lictor’s shoulder. Finna sighs and groans. She bumps me with her shoulder as she grabs hold of Lictor’s cloak.

Lictor starts wriggling his fingers the moment she does. It’s another perfectly smooth motion, but much more complicated this time. It lasts for a while. The air fills with overlapping symbols. They flash brightly and the world goes dark.

My vision returns in a forest. I shiver and wrinkle my face as I again have the feeling that I’ve pushed through a thicket of spider webs. Finna wipes her face and her whole body with both hands. Mandollel and Rworg look around, composed. It’s late, and the forest is already fading to black. I can see the shapes of trees and the moss on the rocks. White boulders jut out from the ground, taller than me. The trees themselves are familiar, but compared to the forests that I’m used to, there are more evergreens than deciduous trees. I chuckle when the word pops into my mind. Gran taught us all to read and write and everything about nature that I’ll never need for real. Everyone complained about it so much, but here I am, missing the leafy trees of home and remembering the word she used of them. In this unfamiliar forest, I see some orange lights flicker through the trees.

”We’re near the border. The lights ahead are from a Kertharian camp. They are raiding a small village in two hours,” Lictor says.

”How many?” Mandollel asks.

”This isn’t what we agreed on,” Finna says.

”Three warmages, fourteen soldiers, seven non-combatants, though that doesn’t really apply here.”

”We will offer them a chance to surrender,” Rworg says. He swings the curved sword and lifts it before his chest, pointing the blade up.

I glance at him. Lictor just said there’s 24 people in total. I have never fought a single human for real. Much less a warmage. When did I agree to fight at all?

”We will not harm the non—” Mandollel says, but stops mid-sentence. His face turns sour for a moment, but he clenches his jaw, grips a handle on his belt and pulls out a sword.

I blink and look closer. I didn’t pay attention to the dangling handle before, but now there’s a faint blue glow as he drags the blade into existence. It appears from thin air as he keeps pulling. The sound it makes is like a whistle of some bird. The blade is a needle with a cutting edge. It shines silver in the moonlight.

Who are these people? Mandollel and Rworg nod at each other and start walking toward the lights. Finna just stands there, but who could blame her?

I swing my bow from my back into my hand. I nudge the quiver on my hip to make sure the arrows are loose and ready. Just in case. I’ll hang back, like I always do. I guess I’ll have to go and see what happens?

Lictor waves a hand toward the lights. ”Go.”