If she thought about it, Wirrin had been looking forward to attending the hetavatok for something like five years, since she’d last been in the desert. Now that she was there, she was more annoyed than anything else.

When Wirrin had found herself confined to bed at various times before, after her various severe injuries or illnesses, she’d felt much the same. She was impatient to get going again.

‘It’s not like you’re on a schedule,’ Ishget said, in bed next to her.

‘If anything, that’s worse,’ Wirrin said. ‘I make my own time. And here I am.’

‘You understand how rude that sounds, yes?’

Wirrin nodded. ‘I do.’

Ishget frowned at her. ‘You want to get away, do you?’

‘I must.’ Wirrin sighed. ‘I feel like I shouldn’t want that.’

‘Doesn’t help, does it?’ Ishget settled into her shoulder. ‘Just relax.’

‘Doesn’t help.’ Wirrin smiled. ‘I’ll try.’

People started trickling away from the hetavatok a couple of days after Vaulgat arrived. Word spread quickly. Yern was getting increasingly bored, hanging around nearby while Wirrin tried to relax. The mages with Vaulgat had demonstrated their newfound powers a few times. Wirrin had talked to Auldok and left it at that.

And yet Wirrin was stuck here. Short of breath just walking from Ishget’s tent to the lakes’ edge. Yern wasn’t the only one getting bored. Yern wasn’t the only one getting annoyed.

Wirrin probably should have stayed at the hetavatok longer than she did, in the end. She only stayed as long as she did because it was a real struggle to say goodbye to Yern. But she was ready to start pulling her own hair out after three weeks.

‘I know, I know,’ Wirrin said, again. ‘I promise I’ll take it easy. Lots of breaks. I just want to get back to it.’

Yern, eyes red and puffy, glared. ‘Get back to what? Fighting the Thaulgtok while you can still barely breathe?’

‘I can breathe.’ Wirrin demonstrated and, to her credit, didn’t start coughing. ‘The longer I wait, the more time they have to prepare.’

‘Even in good health, you’re not going to beat them to Ahepvalt,’ Yern glared. ‘What would it matter if you stayed until you were actually healthy?’

‘How long would that take?’ Wirrin sighed. ‘Months? Years? The longer I’m here, the more danger the rest of you are in.’

‘If they come for us, they’ll come either way,’ Yern insisted. They’d already had this argument.

‘And if they find me somewhere else, they won’t come in such force,’ Wirrin said. ‘They’ll be busy.’

‘Busy killing you?’ Yern demanded. ‘You said you don’t want me to die, that’s why I can’t come with you. Which is foolish enough on its own. But what’s the point of it all if you die?’

‘People will be up in the mountains in a month or two,’ Wirrin said. ‘Same with the swamp. It’s not like everything will be lost if I die.’

‘But you’ll be dead,’ Yern pointed out, reasonably.

Wirrin rubbed her face, resisting the urge to say that she didn’t care. ‘And you’ll all have more time to prepare. Ulvaer will have warning that they’re coming. Even if I die, it won’t be pointless.’

Yern’s jaw clenched, her eyes went shiny again. ‘But you’ll be dead.’

Wirrin barely managed not to groan as she went down on one knee to look Yern in the face. ‘Yern, I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.’

Yern wrapped herself around Wirrin. ‘No you don’t,’ she spluttered. ‘You…’ sniff ‘don’t know anything.’

Wirrin rubbed her back and took deep breaths. This was the other difficulty of making friends with kids. Though she didn’t think any of the children and young people she’d met up until know how taken quite as much a shine to her as Yern had.

‘Yern,’ Wirrin murmured. ‘I promise you. I’ll be back before you know it.’

‘No…’ sniff ‘you won’t…’ sniff ‘you’ll be dead.’

Wirrin struggled to keep her face serious. ‘I’ll be back. I promise you.’

Yern couldn’t get the words out to argue, her little body wracked with sobs. She held on tight. Wirrin was worried the girl would refuse to let go again. That’s why she hadn’t managed to leave the day before.

Eventually, Yern let go, sniffing and wiping at her nose. ‘If you don’t come back…’ sniff ‘I’ll dig you up and kill you myself.’

Wirrin smiled and held out her left hand. ‘It’s a deal.’

Yern put her right palm on Wirrin’s hand and glared. ‘Vosht tholgek.’

‘Maybe so,’ Wirrin said.

And finally, Wirrin managed to get away from the hetavatok.

It didn’t help, but that wasn’t a surprise this time. Of course she felt bad about leaving Yern alone. Except that Yern wasn’t alone. Wirrin was sure that Yern had been enjoying her life before she arrived. Yern would be fine.

Yern would be better off. She’d probably live longer.

Wirrin, on the other hand, had probably just shortened her own life significantly. Barely two hours away from the hetavatok, just long enough to put the whole camp over the horizon, Wirrin had to stop, panting, and sit down.

That was annoying. But not surprising.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

‘The girl was right,’ Ulvaer cackled.

‘She was,’ Wirrin thought, too busy panting to reply aloud.

‘What hope do you have of dealing with a city, like this?’ Naertral burbled.

‘Will they destroy themselves?’ Wirrin thought. ‘Fight me in Ahepvalt? That would be a very bad look.’

‘Do they care about that?’ Ulvaer rattled. ‘Better to take advantage of your gentle nature, surely? Attack you when you don’t want to fight.’

‘They will try to keep you away,’ Mkaer rumbled. ‘Is that not bad enough?’

‘When I was… thirteen, I must have been. When I was thirteen, an acquaintance who had come climbing with me slipped down a cliff face,’ Wirrin thought. ‘He broke four ribs and his left leg. His ribs punctured his lung. It took three years before he could breathe normally again. You think I should wait that long?’

Mkaer rumbled.

‘How long did it take the Church to come for Tertic? After they broke the siege?’ Wirrin asked, aloud. ‘How long did it take them to break the siege, after the rest of you were ejected?’

‘Three months after we were ejected,’ Naertral burbled. ‘Two months before they came for Tertic.’

‘A year between the desert and me,’ Mkaer rumbled.

‘Ten years between you and Ettovica,’ Wirrin said.

‘You are not Bitalen,’ Mkaer rumbled. ‘You are Ulvaer in the desert.’

‘What would you know about the desert?’ Ulvaer rasped.

‘You’ve spent weeks telling us, Ulvaer,’ Naertral burbled. ‘We know.’

‘The filthy Mountain is right,’ Ulvaer cackled. ‘We will fight like cornered animals, and die like one.’

‘And the rest of them will have all the time it takes me,’ Wirrin said, heaving herself to her feet. ‘Yern was right, but I intend to prove myself right too.’

‘Such drama,’ Ulvaer cackled. ‘You will fight like a hetsholg.’

Wirrin snorted. ‘It will be so drawn out, the Thaulgtok will fall asleep.’

‘Of course you don’t like hethetshya,’ Ulvaer rattled.

‘Great way to fall asleep.’

Wirrin only made it about an hour this time before she needed another break. Had she made the decision herself to take a break, she wouldn’t have minded in the slightest. She’d enjoyed slowing Ketla down on the way to Hekaulseg.

She tried to think of it like that. It wasn’t just that her body was refusing to work properly, she was taking her time, enjoying the scenery. Somehow it was even more annoying that that worked.

She couldn’t help but be impatient. She was pointedly slowing herself down, the same way she’d done to Ketla. Being impatient was part of the process. But walking slower, taking frequent short breaks to watch herds of animals, scrutinise cacti, look for birds; it worked. She didn’t get so out of breath, she could go further at a time.

Wirrin stopped for lunch to watch a cackle of hyenas hassle a herd of antelope.

‘There’s some sensible types,’ Ulvaer rattled. ‘Start with the slow and the weak.’

‘They’ll feed those antelope to their own slow and weak,’ Mkaer rumbled.

‘They are different to antelopes,’ Ulvaer rattled. ‘See all this grass? Antelope do not struggle for food.’

‘I’m not going to set Ahepvalt on fire,’ Wirrin said.

Ulvaer disappeared into cackling, screeching laughter.

‘It wouldn’t work, regardless,’ Naertral hissed. ‘Half built over the bay.’

‘It’s still like that,’ Wirrin agreed. ‘Pick the right place, though. The whole place is mostly wooden.’

‘I’m sure even the Thaulgtok would notice you walking around dousing a city with oil,’ Ulvaer cackled.

‘You’re probably right.’

Wirrin stopped earlier than she might have usually. She defended the choice to herself by noting that it was barely past the middle of winter. The days were short. And besides, she was taking in the views.

Vaulgat and Koholshya had donated some food and spices to Wirrin’s effort, as well as some light spring clothes and a thinner blanket. Even sleeping in the sand for the first time in weeks, Wirrin was nice and comfortable on a pile of her bedding.

It was a testament to just how tired Wirrin was from a day of walking that she went to bed not long after sunset and only woke when the sun rose to shine on her face. This being injured business was really, very dull.

In a futile attempt to combat the feeling of weakness that was dug into Wirrin’s mind, she shot a bird out of the sky. It was small, but tasted good enough with some spices. Wirrin added the feathers to the growing package in her pack.

‘Oh, am I imagining that?’ Wirrin thought, looking up from her breakfast.

‘I don’t think you are,’ Mkaer rumbled.

‘I’d better be imagining that,’ Wirrin muttered. ‘I can’t think of any consequences.’

‘You could be killed because you’re distracted,’ Naertral shushed.

‘I meant consequences for her,’ Wirrin snorted.

‘She could be killed because you’re distracted,’ Ulvaer cackled.

‘Which is why I was so insistent,’ Wirrin grumbled.

Wirrin decided to ignore it. She may not have been sure just how far this sense of hers extended, but it was at least three hours at her normal walking pace. Maybe if she just kept going, the problem would resolve itself.

Except that she couldn’t walk at her normal pace for more than an hour. She had to slow again, take frequent short breaks. Even if she wasn’t taking in the views anymore, she was going faster than she would walking at a normal pace for an hour and then stopping for an hour to recover.

Still, Wirrin had to stop for lunch to recover from the morning. Those little footsteps were getting closer.

‘If she’s not here because I forgot something, I am going to…’

‘You’re going to do nothing,’ Ulvaer rattled. ‘You’re going to be very kind natured and understanding.’

‘I am not,’ Wirrin said. ‘I am going to be upset with her. I am going to send her back so that she doesn’t get killed.’

‘You’re going to be very kind to her,’ Ulvaer rattled.

Wirrin frowned. Rather than ask the question, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She could feel that rattling, cackling, screeching of Ulvaer talking to the other mages at the back of her head. She had been wondering, since the first time she felt it, if there was something more she could do.

‘Tes faulek vospaulgek,’ Herdok was grousing. ‘Shyolg vos hetollavat.’

‘Ogtok esvesh vog, Herdok,’ Ulvaer rattled.

‘Gol holk, Tegalk,’ Herdok continued grousing, unphased. ‘Tes faulek vospaulgek.’

That was certainly something. Not what Wirrin was looking for.

‘Olg ekt eshaugoll aupt tegalk,’ Ishget was telling someone. ‘Goltok gauk yavt auptok olg.’

‘Tegalk es’hetsh vos,’ Gotak said. ‘Olg gok vik aupt, goltok gauk gousolg.’

‘Tegalk vos’holk yalg,’ Ishget sighed. ‘Wirrin vosgat… vosyaskolgok. Olg vosvik vog.’

That was a little closer, if hurtful. Wirrin thought of herself as deeply sentimental, why else would she still care about Yolget and Ishget after all these years? Wasn’t that sentimentality?

‘Vesh og tholgek gol heg vog faulget?’ Agesh was thinking, sitting with her feet in Fauvat Faulget.

Wirrin was sweating and short of breath, when she got back to her own body. Technically, she hadn’t found anything either way. She was back to being certain that Yern wasn’t a mage.

The Fiends were silent.

‘How are you like this?’ Mkaer thundered. ‘How did you do that?’

‘You turned me inside out,’ Ulvaer cackled. ‘I saw myself from the inside, as if all these pieces are different.’

Wirrin coughed.

‘Do it again,’ Naertral hissed.

Wirrin descended into a fit of coughing, flecks of blood joining the phlegm in the sand.

‘Serves you right,’ Ulvaer cackled. ‘To violate another’s privacy so.’

‘How much privacy do we have from each other?’ Wirrin thought, trying to catch her breath. ‘You’ve seen me have sex.’

Naertral laughed like that pond full of frogs.