We said our goodbyes to Chiang Wu, promising to come back and visit. I still was not fully confident that I would survive to do so, not without Juan watching my back, in addition to Harper. Even with Jerseil with us, I didn’t have high hopes. Harper and Jerseil might survive, but I questioned even that. Juan’s death from falling into the chasm was too fresh in my mind. The lack of crowds or interesting things to look out meant I had nothing to distract me from my grief, even with the uplifting surprise visit with Arilyn. I had an ache of loss for her, as well.

  It was a recipe for brooding introspection, depression, and intrusive thoughts. As we walked down the mountain path, surrounded by pine trees sighing and creaking in the light wind, I pondered Jerseil’s words over the past couple of days.

  What if Arilyn was the demon?

  If only I had more power, I could have helped Juan.

  A tinge of self-loathing crept into my heart and mind at the thoughts. Yet how could I not wonder at such things? I didn’t understand much of how this world worked beyond the basics.

  Gravity worked, though I had questions about the height of this mountain range and the air not getting as thin as I expected. The day and night cycle seemed the same as it was back on Earth, for what it was worth. Magic was a thing, and I only knew that it worked. There were also gods and demons here. Not just religious writings and myths that required faith, but honest-to-God deities that had power and form. It was more than a little weird, and very frightening.

  Getting myself stronger quicker was important. But at what cost? I didn’t want to lose my friends, but I couldn’t protect them yet. Just like I couldn’t protect Juan. And I hated myself for being so weak. I hated that even the people that I had recently come to care about were leaving, and I was powerless to stop it. Just like I was powerless to stop my dad from getting sick and dying.

  It was a punch in the gut, that thought. I hadn’t realized how much I was still feeling the effects of losing my dad until I put it all together. The loss. All the loss. I lost my world and family. Then I made new friends and became close to them. Then boom! I lost Juan. And Boom! Arilyn popped back into my life and then was gone again. What’s the third shoe going to be? Harper? Jerseil? Myself?

  The sunbeams danced on the rocky ground, bare except for pine needles and branches. My thoughts grasped the transitory nature of the moment, dipping further into despair. But then I noticed a mountain lion sunning itself on a rock, watching us pass. There didn’t seem to be any fear in the creature, only curiosity. We weren’t a threat to it, but I knew that if we could see it like this, it probably just ate.

  In that moment, I was awed by the pure power and disdain it presented by the way it lounged like a house cat in a sunbeam. It was beautiful and horrifying all at the same time. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen this. When I was little and hiking with my parents, we saw a mountain lion sunning itself 50 yards from the trail. My dad had told me not to be afraid and also to keep my eyes on the predator. I was scared shitless back then. Yet now I wasn’t.

  I knew I could take it. I was physically strong and had several spells. The thought challenged my previous view of myself and what I had become here. I may not be able to take out an ogre, but one of the most dangerous predators in the Rocky Mountains? Who knows? I could probably take out a full-grown grizzly bear. That I was getting stronger with every engagement, and now with better gear, meant I only had to get better at using what I had. No, not better. Smarter.

  I turned to keep my eyes on the great cat, grinning. It cleaned itself, dismissing me. Or maybe just pretended to ignore me. I was ready if it changed its mind. I almost needed a fight to feel the magic surge through me. God, how I needed it.

  Jerseil must have noticed I was out of my introspective state and slowed down to walk with me. “What’s up, my friend?” he asked.

  “Oh, not much. Just thinking about things.” I replied noncommittally.

  “You know, I think about things too,” Jerseil said with a snort.

  I relented, deciding to be honest. “Funny. Okay, okay! I was thinking about loss. Loss and power.”

  “Ah, yes. Feeling down about not having enough?” he asked with a sidelong glance.

  “Well yeah. But then I saw the mountain lion sunning itself. And it hit me. I am more powerful than that mountain lion. If I wanted to, I could kill it in several ways. Maybe even with my bare hands,” I said. There was rising excitement in my voice, and it shocked me. I really wanted to do it, but to what purpose? I had nothing to prove and despised killing for killing’s sake.

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  “True. So why didn’t you? Why didn’t you just destroy that dangerous creature?”

  “It wasn’t threatening us, Jerseil. What would be the point?” I replied, irritation entering my voice.

  “Maybe make you feel less powerless? Or would you still feel pity for the poor animal when it eats the next villager?”

  “Jerseil, there is no indication that it even hunts people. Most mountain lions don’t. They, like house cats, are attracted to movement and prey-like behavior. They will play with anything that gets their attention. It’s dangerous, yes, but not necessarily fatal,” I explained.

  The Bard shook his head. “That may be, and the creature might not be the best example. But doesn’t it make sense to deal with things before they are a problem? When you leave a thorn or a splinter in your hand, it can get infected. But if you remove it as soon as possible, you won’t have to deal with the infection and possibly lose your hand.”

  “Oh, I get it,” I replied. “But I have a hard time accepting any argument built around the ends justifying the means. Should we lock up children who take toys from other kids? Or step on bugs? Wouldn’t that prevent theft and murder in the future?”

  “It’s not the same thing, Finn. Kids are not wild animals,” Jerseil protested.

  “But that’s just it, Jerseil. If one accepts the idea of killing a wild animal to prevent possible future deaths, how much of a leap is it for one to accept locking up misbehaving children? There is a certain logic to it. Taking a small step on the road of good intentions, accepting little evil acts one by one, can bring one to the destination of greater and larger evils in the name of the greater good,” I said. My argument startled him, leaving my friend speechless for a moment.

  “That makes sense. But don’t you feel a certain amount of responsibility to help others? Honestly, Finn, you can still do a lot with what you have. And when you have more power… why, you have the potential to become the most powerful Mage this world has ever seen! Can you even imagine?” he grinned at that point, his excitement growing. “With enough power, you could stop the Empire, saving hundreds of thousands of lives, if not more. You would be a hero!”

  I laughed, cheered by his exuberance. “You know I don’t want to be a hero, right?”

  “But you could be. Once you power up, you cou—” Jerseil was cut off by the screech of some animal in the trees.

  We all froze, and I looked up into the upper boughs of the pine trees. “What the fuck was that?” I asked.

  “Perytons!” Harper cried out, pulling her knives.

  Then I saw them, a surreal cross of various forest creatures grossly crossed with birds. I saw a couple that looked similar to foxes, two different variations of stag deer, a few that looked like either bobcats or lynxes, a wolverine one for some reason, and a massive elk-looking creature with a wingspan that would make a goose insecure. The one thing that seemed to unite them, other than the wings, was their dirty and unkempt appearance.

  “Can we reason with them?” I asked.

  “Reason with them? What the fuck, Finn? Perytons are aggressive wild beasts. What makes you think we could reason with them?” Harper snapped at me.

  “I think he was looking at this as if they had some intelligence!” the Jerseil said loudly. He pulled out his… gittern? And strummed a few chords.

  I looked at the sitting herd or pack. Or is it a flock? “They aren’t attacking, and they look like shit.” I hiss-whispered. “Maybe if we make no sudden movements, they might leave without attacking. Or we can leave.”

  Nobody moved. Not Harper, or Jerseil, or even the flock of monstrosities roosting above and around us.

  Harper looked from Peryton to Peryton, gripping her knives tightly. “How fast can you hit them with that chain lightning spell if they attack, Finn? A surged one?”

  I blinked. “As fast as I can think, zippity-zap. Harper, what are you planning?”

  “I was considering hitting them fast and hard, but as you pointed out, they aren’t looking too good. Like they’re recently divorced and homeless or something,” she said. Harper relaxed, making a decision. “I’ve never seen Perytons look like this. And they look like they have been on the move for a while. If they attack, we’ll hit them with everything we’ve got. If they like chill and conk out, we’ll just let them sleep.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Jerseil said smartly.

  Harper scowled at him. “We’ll discuss your calling me ma’am later. Finn?”

  “I could use the experience, but not enough to attack them when they aren’t being hostile,” I said, looking at the bizarre creatures. “Is that badger one already asleep?”

  “Then let’s get the hell out of here. Slow and soft,” she ordered.

  With that, Harper became less noticeable, and Jerseil put away his gittern after humming a little tune that did something similar. Guess it’s my turn, I thought. I cast my Walk in Shadows spell on myself and carefully followed them. The gaze of the fox-like Perytons followed us as we went on our way. They didn’t cry out in alarm, though. It was a strange thing.

  Once we were far enough away, we went back to normal. “I hope we don’t run into what caused those Perytons to be in such a state.”

  “Right? Sort of like the Brask pushing out different species. I hope it’s not some sort of arboreal Brask,” Harper mused.

  “Oh, gods. Don’t even say such a thing!” groaned Jerseil. “The idea of something like that… like a vicious, mindless dragon kin. And I’ve never heard of one of those with working wings.”

  I shuddered, thinking of the Shrindaba we ran from in the sewers of Alsiger. If that thing could fly, not one person or animal would be safe. I could almost hear the beat of leathery wings in the distance.

  Thlap, thwap!

  Was that in my head or… Jesus fucking Christ.