The swamp was a damn sight better than the sewers, and it was good to be in fresher air. The path changed a couple of times, but I didn’t know why. Maybe I’ll ask them when we are away from this place and safe. It didn’t help my nerves any, though. The sun was setting when we got to the edge of the swamp and stopped to rest, nestled in a bramble of bushes that had odd white puffs all over them. I had never seen anything like them.

  “Pussy willows, boy. How have you never seen them before?” was all Juan said about it while settling in for a nap.

  Harper looked like she was already out, so I tried to nap myself. Not like I thought I could, but it was worth a try. As expected, my mind raced with everything that had happened that day. I felt like I was figuratively in a story. The Rat Men. The non-dragon thing that was like a dinosaur-sized alligator. And really, there was the craziness of sneaking through enemy lines to go on a quest! What had my life become? I thought about what was going on at home. My mom had probably reported me missing. I had missed two tests and would be lucky if I could make them up.. My brother… Oh God, that little shit would love this place. I chuckled quietly to myself.

  But then I thought about whether he could have survived any of this. He was only 15 and a nerd. An active nerd, and more able to adjust to this kind of place. The nightmares he’d have. Hell, I’m going to have nightmares about this place. But I like to think he would have finished the tutorial, met up with Juan, and been okay. Probably would have found a way home by now. Thinking of how my little brother would have done here, how he would have been so much more in his element and thus badass, I fell asleep.

  It seemed like seconds later I was being shaken awake. I looked up, seeing Harper’s face inches from mine, and started in surprise. This made her smile.

  “Come on, Finn, the fun’s not over yet,” she whispered and was gone. I stretched, trying to work some surprising soreness out of my muscles. The moon was out, but it looked two-thirds smaller than usual and the wrong color. The light was still useful, though, so I got myself to the horses. We moved out immediately.

  Avoiding the roving scouts and sentries was almost ridiculously easy, as they carried torches showing us exactly where they were. I assumed it also ruined their night vision. Harper quietly led us on a zigzag path that did not have us stopping or slowing down at all.

  We took our time approaching the first camp, only stopping in a small copse of trees, to look over the large encampment. On the side we were going to pass it on were the horses for the camp tied in a line. Maybe thirty of them. Juan looked at them in contemplation before grabbing Harper and whispering to her. She grinned and gave me the reins of her horse with a wink. I suddenly had a bad feeling in my gut as she disappeared into the tall grass.

  A few minutes later, we saw her cut the main rope holding all the horses. To my surprise, harper picked out three of the mercenary mounts. She led her three prizes through the grass as the other horses started wandering about. She waved to us in a cavalier fashion, trying to get us to join her. I looked at Juan, who nodded, and a moment later we led our horses down to where she was.

  “What are you doing? Won’t this bring the attention of everyone down on us?” I hissed. I could tell I was on edge, being this close to the camp.

  “Relax, Finn. They’ll be too busy trying to gather up the horses to come after us. Besides, now we have three more in case we need to ride hard,” she replied confidently.

  Something spooked a one of the horses, and it started running into the camp, getting caught on tent lines and pulling them along as it became more and more distraught. I watched this in stunned horror.

  “Hey, the horses!” a voice cried from the camp. Mercenaries ran from deeper in the camp and in our direction. One saw us and raised the alarm. I looked at Harper, and she just grinned, like this was all part of her plan and she was having fun.

  “Mount up, you two. We need to ride!” ordered Juan. I scrambled onto GB, handing the reins of Harper’s horse back to her as she got in her saddle. She still held the leads to the three extra horses with little issue, so they stayed with her.

  And that was about when everything fell apart. From the moment when the spooked horse ran into the camp, to our being discovered was less than thirty seconds.

  A few of the soldiers grabbed horses and torches, giving chase, while the rest of them focused on getting the skittish horses rounded up. Juan led us away from the camp at a trot, and the mercenaries followed bareback. My only consolation was that they likely didn’t know who we were. Probably thought we were just horse thieves.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  I tried to put Juan’s advice about checking enemy levels to use. And I failed. Riding a horse while trying to get yourself into the right state of mind is difficult. Very difficult.

  “Should we attack them, Juan?” I asked, surprising myself. I was teetering on the edge of panic at what was happening on top of all the shit I’d experienced in the sewers. At that moment, I was ready just to start fucking blasting every single enemy. I pushed down the self-loathing that rose with that thought, so I wouldn’t be distracted. I would revisit it later.

  “Not yet! Let’s see if we can lose them in those trees ahead!” Juan shouted back and sped up.

  They were on our tails all the way to the thicket, which we entered at a dead run. I got slapped in the face by a small branch. The sharp pain shocked me, and I felt blood begin to run from the cut on my cheek. I ducked down to avoid being brained by anything bigger. The trees were a blur, our mounts not slowing as they weaved between the trunks. I heard a cry behind me as one of the mercenaries was knocked off their horse.

  Not knowing how many were left, I kept my head down. I hoped the forest was a big one, seeing the trees as our temporary allies in the flight. But that hope was extinguished as the trees thinned and gave way to more open grassland. We burst out of the trees right toward another encampment with a flag bearing a silvery falcon fluttering in the firelight.

  “Mierda! This way!” Juan cried out as he swerved to the right. My sense of direction was all turned around at this point. GB was in a following mood, her new fierceness forgotten in the rush, and I was grateful.

  I glanced at the camp, seeing three wide-eyed mercenary sentries, one drinking from a dark bottle. I looked back, seeing the horsemen chasing us leave the woods at high speed. They adjusted their heading when they saw us. The mercenaries supposed to be on watch shouted the alarm. Bitterly, I found myself wondering what else could go wrong as we rode on into the darkness.

  Juan juked his mount right before turning it to the left, and I followed as closely as I could. More horsemen joined their less-prepared comrades in the chase, and it was looking like we would not get away.

  We rode up a hill, and Juan wheeled his horse around, an arrow already flying from his bow. I turned GB when I got up the hill, gripping GB’s reins between my leg and the saddle before casting three Ice Shards from my left hand and four Firebolts from my right hand at the oncoming attackers. Though I was shivering and sweating from the differing sensations of the spells, I peppered in some Poisonous Shots for good measure, chugging a mana potion. I grinned widely, feeling good!

  Arrows and knives sprouted from mercenaries faster than I could follow, and I continued my elemental assault until I was out of mana again. I drank another mana potion so I wouldn’t fall out of my saddle and let out a contented sigh.

  We did not stop to loot the bodies.

  A part of me felt wrong about that. I needed the money.

  We sat in the trees the next day watching yet another Steel Falcon checkpoint blocking our path toward the caverns. It was the sixth one we’d had to avoid as we continued moving west. It was almost as if they were blocking our way on purpose.

  “Why can’t we just go straight there over land?” I whispered, irritated. “Why do we have to deal with them getting in our way?”

  Harper snorted next to me. “Finn, did you ever see the Grand Canyon as a kid? Imagine it being three times as deep, with only two ways around it: far to the east, or follow this road to Manik’s Bridge. The damn thing reaches into the mountains,” she answered, her voice a whisper.

  “There is a third way.” Juan said, staring at the large group of mercenaries. He stood there stoically. “There’s an older bridge in the western mountains, built by a long-gone tribe of people.”

  “Juan, no. It’s too dangerous. Finn will die if we go that way. Hell, even I might be too low level to go there,” Harper hissed.

  Juan grimaced. “It might be our only choice.”

  “We need help, old man. Why not just cross the mountains through one of the safe passes, get to the army, and get some help to deal with the Steel Falcons? Then we can get over the safe bridge and deal with Finn’s quest,” Harper argued.

  “An unfortunate change in venue. Finn the Mage, in his quest to track the beast, has run into a roadblock of epic proportions. He can fight his way to and over Manik’s Bridge, likely dying in the attempt, or he can seek another path. Will he choose to cross the Bridge of Ankana’Zuul in the former mountain valley home of the long-dead Zuul, facing the unseen dangers that await? Or will he seek help from the Allied Army of the Twelve Kingdoms in dealing with the Steel Falcon Company?” announced the Voice, making it clear what it thought was the better choice.

  Unlike in the past, the Voice spoke audibly. Like there were speakers in the surrounding trees. I could tell the other two had heard it too, based on the visible surprise and shock on their faces.

  The dramatics of the Voice made me groan. I almost expected it to end with a ‘tune in next time!’ Or some other obnoxious cliffhanger bullshit. “So the Voice doesn’t think I would survive going over the Maniac Bridge, and it seems to think the other two options are better. The going-for-help option sounds less ominous,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

  Juan pondered this for a moment, stroking his goatee. “I heard it too, Finn. We’ll head over the mountains to the Shadow Lands and make contact with the Allied Army,” he said, looking pointedly at Harper. “I refuse to be pulled into the conflict with the Empire, though. If they will only help General Venegas instead of Juan Venegas, then we’ll head for the Anaka Sool bridge.”

  “Ankana’Zuul, General. Ankana’Zuul,” the Voice corrected. It sounded even more irritated than it usually did narrating. The fact that it addressed Juan worried me. Almost as much as its speaking to all three of us at the same time troubled me.

  “Did both of you hear that?” Juan asked, flustered.