Enki had told the truth. Of course had told the truth. It promised it couldn’t lie, but part of me was suspicious of that admission. It was such a weakness that I found it hard to believe the being would have allowed me to discover it. I continued to wait for the moment it would reveal that very inability to lie to be a lie itself. I was careful not to expose myself too much to the assumption that it was indeed completely true.

  Enki had promised that I would not have to go so far. We travelled north for about four hours. Enki was busy, flitting in and out of my presence, still insisting on secrecy.

  When the mountain it had described came into view, with the shimmering of the veil beyond it, Enki returned and finally started to reveal my purpose.

  The mountain itself was a sight. It seemed to rise alone from the landscape, an impossible protrusion of the earth, reaching skyward. It rose like a broken shark’s tooth, jagged and sharp, furred with the green of pine forests, streaked with the white lines of snowdrifts.

  Beyond the mountain, the veil. In the South they called this same phenomenon the Weirding Wall. Despite the different names, I understood the occurrences to be the same. I had never seen the Weirding Wall. The Veil was more familiar to me. It was visible from Buffalo—a perfectly sheer field that rose from the ground and disappeared into the highest reaches of the atmosphere. It shimmered and distorted the air. From here, it seemed only to obscure the sky beyond. I knew that up close, the distortion would be more intense, to the point of creating the impression of a nearly opaque wall.

  This was Wild territory. It was too far from any major city to be populated. More, the Veil—like the Weirding Wall—was a territory where strange things were said to happen. Fiend activity was extreme and unpredictable near either border. This was the end of the known world.

  I continued to propel myself with the Footfield. I was startled slightly by the suggestion. I hadn’t the vaguest notion of what Enki intended here.

  Ahead, the terrain became more forested. I would have to relinquish the field soon.

  I nearly stumbled.

  I released the field and continued jogging toward the tree line, as guided.

  I said

  It spoke with something like wounded pride.

  I loped up the slope, dodging trees and boulders.

  It interrupted me.

  I felt a shiver. For all my ambitions, the notion of reaching level 100 had never even crossed my mind. It was an impossibility of mythic proportions. I let myself imagine for just a moment what that would be like. The power to sweep entire armies away single-handed. Fearing no Griidlord, no Axe.

  Enki said

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  My blood was not warmed by any of this.

  Enki said,

  As I continued, the terrain became even rougher, the growth of trees more dense. Ahead, I could see the light of a clearing. I slowed as I approached the light.

  Enki said

  Enki had been intermittently assaulting my ears with the same noise over and over, sometimes nearly inaudibly, sometimes with deafening excitement.

  I reached the clearing. I could already see the shapes of other figures beyond the tangle of trunks and branches. As I grew closer I could see the shine of Griid-suits. I felt anticipation, even a tingling of anxiety. This moment would reveal that I was among those who heard the voice. This moment would reveal others to me who also heard the voice. It was like being naked. And seeing others naked. Whoever lay beyond the border of the trees would be vulnerable to me forever, and I to them.

  Four figures stood in the clearing.

  The first was obvious. Morningstar. Honestly, I was surprised to see him here. I knew he was one of Enki’s chosen, but his disdain for the voice was abundantly clear and I didn’t think Morningstar would be swayed easily. I had to wonder what price Enki had needed to pay to convince him to come here.

  Morningstar stood in conversation with two other suits. I recognized one. Ravyn. I had played over the names I imagined might be here. Her name had been among them. She was always in the conversation for the deadliest Axe in all the lands. Still, I asked,

  I was relieved not to see him.

  I nodded.

  Between Morningstar and Ravyn another suit stood, peripheral to their conversation, clearly in deference to the legends before him. He wore an Arrow suit in the colors of San Diego. I had fought, and defeated, San Diego during the Falling. I smiled, remembering it. I had personally bested their Sword, an ancient warrior named Decimus Falco. I did not remember their Arrow.

  I cast ASSESS on the Arrow.

  Subject: Livius Titus

  Status: Chosen Arrow

  Level: 28

  Skills: Force, *

  Somewhat confused,

  Enki said

  I nodded at the assessment. I knew this was Enki’s criteria, but still.

  Enki sounded impatient.

  I shivered slightly. The implication was exciting, intimidating. The implication was that Morningstar and I were expected to exceed those names. It seemed impossible. Braax single-handedly kept Greenbay in Flows, kept them relevant despite their strange isolationist nature. Victa was… well, she was the Empress, chosen after Yvina as the strongest Sword in all the lands of the West.

  The fourth figure in the clearing stood back from the other three. At first I couldn’t make them out, obscured by the others. As I stepped forward I caught a flash of purple.

  My heart skittered.

  She stepped out from around the group at my approach. Her face must have mirrored mine. It was a strange tangle of pained horror and ascending worry.

  I heard myself breathe her name, “Racquel…”

  I caught myself. None could know about our relationship. Not even these other three who now knew, by virtue of my presence, that I spoke to a voice in my head.

  I thought back to it.

  Racquel passed a single brief and meaningful glance to me. I echoed it. There was so much between us in that fraction of a second. Wonder at the discovery that we shared this. Hurt, maybe, that neither of us had shared it. Fear of discovery and the need to mask our familiarity. And a promise. A promise to talk later, when the chance presented itself.

  Seeing me, Morningstar broke off his conversation. To my understanding, Ravyn was actually superior to him in level, but he seemed to assume command. Ravyn appeared content to leave it to him.

  He spoke easily, not posing with authority, simply owning it by virtue of being… well, by being Morningstar. “Okay. Looks like the gang is all together. Looks like we’ve got a hell of a task in front of us.”