It is not much later that we all sit by the fire. Another one of the wolves - the wulven, as we’ve learned - uses that same fireball magic Richard ate before to light a fire. They sit further away in the clearing, keeping a respectful distance.

  The leader of the wulven, the one that Opal defeated in an entirely legitimate duel that I never had a hand in at all, sits close-by, legs crossed, politely letting Opal ruffle his fur. “It’s so soft,” they hum for what is certainly not the first time.

  Richard smirks at their antics. She sits next to me, watching as I hold my hands above the wulven’s wounds. My mana spins, twists, and I run my mind ragged trying to recreate the healing patterns. I get close, but it’s still too little, too incomplete for a true spell.

  But it works, somewhat. A chunk of my mana being hungrily devoured by the construct, knitting a little bit more flesh back together. “Tapped out,” I say, leaning back. The wulven leader, Dar, nods at me, chuffing faintly in gratitude.

  In truth, I still have a third of my mana left, but they don’t need to know that.

  “Well,” I say. “The wulven have told us what they are like. What about you, Richard?”

  The woman turns to me and I am once again struck by the thought that her mandibles look a little cute. Her six eyes look at me with curiosity. “Yes. Information is adequate recompense for a meal,” she says, assuring herself. “And for a friend.”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  She nods again, then leans back, thoughtfully. “I am a Hiy’ht.” The sound is a bit hissy, even in the human language, meant to be suitable for their alien mouths. But it’s the best translation the system offers me. “We are small of stature, but grand of civilization. Hive spires that scratch the skies, grand pires to feed all, burrowing and building. We excel at coordination.”

  Dar snorts derisively. “I would bet a warrior of mine against you anyday, insect.”

  Richard simply smiles at him. “And they would win, mutt. And then, a million more Hiy’ht would come to strip their bones clean.”

  At that, Dar shuts his mouth. Opal pats his head. “There there, buddy,” they say. “No need to worry about it too much. We don’t have any reason to fight, right?”

  The wulven chuffs in what seems to be a mix of embarrassment, contentment, and amusement. “Sure,” he grows, “other than our eternal honor, and to form bonds.”

  “Like we did?” Opal asks.

  “Yes,” the wulven nods. “You and I are bonded. To let harm befall you is a stain on my honor. I shall strike down your adversaries, and in gratitude, you will strike down mine.”

  “Now kiss,” Sylves teases.

  Opal gives her a long look. Then, slowly they smile, turning to the wulven and planting a kiss on his cheek. Sylves’ teasing smile freezes on her face for just a second. We all wait a few seconds to let the awkward moment drift by.

  “Well, then,” Jess says. “So, the wulven are a bit of a warrior-species. And you Hiy’ht live in large colonies, and hold generational grudges.”

  Richard smiles a little, though it looks weird, twisting her mandibles upwards. “Essentially, yes.”

  “What about humans?” Dar asks. “I can understand the heat-eaters, yet you are mysterious, still. Are you usually gathered?”

  Amelie replies to him. “Humans are renowned for gathering in large communities,” she says. “Though often, most of them hardly know about or care for each other. We are remarkably good at exploiting one another for profit, and remarkably good at creating small communities that care strongly for each other.”

  At that, Richard lets out a chittering whistle. “What strange critters you are.”

  I smile. Yeah, she gets it. Humans really are strange critters.

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  “You are one of those tight knit communities, then?” one of Dar’s warriors asks. The fireball-mage one.

  Norman shakes his head. “Not quite. It’s more complex than that. I care about Inu and Jess,” he says, gesturing at his daughter and wife. “Meanwhile, Bay cares more about Thatch. And on and on it goes. We all have our individual bonds, but we’re sticking together. For now,” he adds.

  Again, he does seem to get it. He has every right to ditch the group if he wants to. I just don’t think Inu would join him. So, I get to endure his grumbling.

  Maybe we need to almost die a few more times before the horror of it sinks in? We’ll see. All in due time.

  “Whelp,” Opal says. “Despite how much I love waking and fighting in the middle of the night, I’m gonna catch some more sleep.” They promptly plop their face against Dar’s shoulder. His fur might make a good pillow. Kind of like a service dog.

  The wulven, for his part, doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he accepts his duty with pride, having lost the duel. In a totally legitimate fashion that I had no hand in at all. Nope, not me. Surely.

  Then, slowly, one by one, everyone goes to sleep. Richard seems least bothered by being awake. “Hiy’ht are crepuscular,” she explains. “We’re usually awake at dawn and dusk, sleeping a little in between.”

  “Wulven are always vigilant,” Dar says. “We rest parts of our brain in shifts. Usually denoted by pairs of eyes closing.” Some wulven only have two eyes, which probably means they have not gotten to that part yet. So the shift-resting was reserved for those who had advanced far enough to… grow extra eyes?

  Dar, for his part, closes his red eyes, leaving the orange ones open, seemingly at peace. The fireball mage does the same, while a few of the smaller wulven seem to just fall asleep like regular people.

  I wonder if I’ll also be able to avoid the need for sleep like that. Maybe I can practice in my sleep? If I think of mana enough, I might dream about it. Worth a try, I decide. So, as I close my eyes, I half-meditate and half-rest, focussing my mind on small exercises and spellforms.

  The healing spell eludes me for now, but I’ll be damned if I don’t figure it out soon.

  - - -

  The night passes, and morning comes. I feel… reasonably rested. Still tired, but not too bad at all.

  When I fell asleep, my thoughts were dedicated to mana, and the same is true when I wake up. My vessel is full, so I instantly use some of it to heal my wounds more. The hole in my shoulder mends a bit, and so does the nasty wound left by the little shadow thing in my side.

  I should feed it, I note, sneakily poking a wound into my finger and dropping a little bit of blood into my shadow. There is a small shambling noise, and the liquid vanishes. I wait until the blood stops on its own after a dozen drops.

  Dar is looking at me. He tilts his head, as if asking a question, but I just stare at him, blank faced. He smelled the blood, probably. But he doesn’t ask, and I don’t volunteer an explanation.

  So, instead, I focus on the mana maze again. I hold it in my hands, and I smile at the sight of the black polish. It’s silly, but I like it. The cube’s shiny metal surface contrasts nicely against my pale hands. Slowly, I push threads of energy through it, making them coil and twist as the inside of the labyrinth shifts. It’s designed so cleverly, little runes and enchantments and levers that I get to push my mana into, and it twists parts of the maze.

  Then I strain my perception again to find the path to the next little lever. It’s fun, and I repeat the exercise. It becomes more difficult with each step, too, since the path for me to feed it more mana becomes more complex, and the maze introduces new challenges.

  I enjoy it, toying with it until the others wake up, and a little past that. I continue the exercise while eating breakfast, and while the others chat. “Running low on food,” Bay notes. “We should raid a store soon.”

  Slowly, I nod. My clothes are ragged, and I’d like new ones, too. With our current band of people, that shouldn’t be too much trouble. Humans, wulven, Hiy’ht, all working together. It’s getting a little crowded for my taste, but that’s fine for now. I’m rather sure we’ll split up later. All I really care about is keeping Inu, Thatch, Opal and Sylves safe.

  “Let’s head out, then,” I say, getting up and patting some dirt off me.

  "Halt," one of the wulven says. The fireball-slinging mage, Dar's second in command. "With our leader's new blood-bond in place, he will follow you. But you have not won the loyalty of all of us. The rest has asked me to leave, and seek out our own destiny," he announces.

  Dar looks upon the wulven, two dozen staunch warriors, and then simply nods. "Very well," he says. "Tyr shall lead the pack, then. May you all live honorably, and fight beautifully."

  The fireball mage, Tyr, apparently, smiles at that, baring his fangs. "Good. We wish you luck, too. May your pack hunt well and eat well."

  With those words, he turns around, and rather than heading for the town, Tyr and the wulven streak into the forest, presumably to find something to hunt. I tilt my head a little at the behaviour, but then shrug. I don't see any need to chase after them - our group is plenty big already.

  "So. Raiding some grocery stores?" I ask.

  “I’d also like some new clothes,” Amelie notes. I look down at myself, then over at her and smile.

  “That too, then,” I nod.

  And with that decision made, we head off, back from the forest into the city - despite Sylves’ protests, of course.

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