EMMA

  Every steady breath flooded Emma's nose with a different pungent reminder that she wasn't dreaming. That every single snapshot of the nightmare flashing through her mind was a real memory.

  The apocalypse. Freezing in the woods. The blood-soaked steps of the watchtower.

  Waiting until Calen was out of earshot, to quietly ask Mr. Isaacson for an easy way out, if her body gave out on her.

  Magic being maybe-real, until suddenly it was, for sure. A viper with two heads, longer than most cars, slithering out of the rafters. Cannibal aliens who survived getting shot in the face, but not the throat. Calen's leg, defying the magical cures Emma had forced to take effect using stolen junk and willpower. The larger snake crushing its way out of the tower, now thrashing in the woods as it was tied down.

  And then the other aliens. Emma had just finished using up the last of the strange leather patches and watched it fail to make a dent in the necrotized sections of Calen's leg when the door had burst open.

  Of course she had hidden. The last 'people' from outside had tried to eat her.

  Mr. Isaacson hadn't fired the gun, though. She had been just about to peek around the door to figure out why, when another scaly form had cast a shadow across the threshold, and the fighting had started.

  Holding her breath hearing the strange tread of boots get closer and closer, even when the hazy air prickled her lungs and begged her to cough, demanded that she clear her lungs or they would clear themselves for her.

  Mirri, breaking Emma's grip with only her most delicate limbs, and then tossing her against the wall like a crash test dummy, with all the same forces involved. Watching a knifepoint hover at Calen's throat while he quipped and pretended his face wasn't ghostly-pale, while he pretended that they hadn't both been about to die.

  Except they had only been in danger because Emma hadn't trusted the complete stranger, walking through the door to crouch beside Calen with a knife.

  A member of an actual alien species.

  Aliens who weren't cannibals, and were actually just there to rescue them. Bigger aliens who knew about Earth, knew enough to cite realistic casualty numbers. Aliens who knew how to do magic, and said there was something wrong with the way Emma did it, something she needed to hide because she was still hurt, still going to fall apart.

  Strange, scaly people who didn't think she was going to last long enough to make it to safety, but that Calen might.

  Keeping up was exhausting.

  For her.

  "Em? Em! Yoohoo." Calen snapped his fingers in front of her eyes and whistled a birdcall, bright-eyed and chipper. "You okay? You get all that?"

  The two of them had been left upstairs, unattended, without being tied up or threatened or given any warning except against standing too close to the windows, in case of stray arrows or stones.

  They were at the window anyway.

  "They're flying us down when the fighting starts, but not yet, because you can't run yet." Emma droned. She had gotten that much.

  What she didn't understand was why.

  Why they were here, instead of dead. Why the first person they met threatened to eat them. Why magic was real, and some of the aliens were helping them.

  "Dragonborn." Emma turned her head to Calen. "Mirri said they were Dragonborn. Why do I know that word? How did you know the red thing was a healing potion?"

  The little dork had the audacity to shrug at her.

  "I had a hunch. And uh, I think whatever babelfish effect, the translation thing, is going on with magic will like, attach itself to like concepts," He yammered away. "They're not like, a one to one, perfect match. The wings are different. But I bet it's the same idea."

  "Perfect match to wh—"

  Emma had a thought. A terrible, terrible, no-good thought that was very uncharitable.

  "Calen, did you have us set the hydra on fire because of the Heracles myth, or because of your games?" She hissed.

  The guilt on his face as he rolled a numbered plastic tetrahedron between his thumb and forefinger was enough of an answer.

  "Oh yeah. That was a Hercules thing originally." He said, "But also that just... makes sense, right? Being on fire isn't good for living things."

  Which wasn't wrong, exactly, but—

  "What if it hadn't worked?" She demanded.

  He shrugged again, this time upturning his palms in an exaggerated motion.

  "Then we would have died! Isn't it great I thought of it, and nobody got eaten? If it had taken one more bullet for the snake, maybe we don't make it till Mirri arrives. And I definitely die from magic snake venom if you get—"

  "Okay. Okay, fine, it was a good idea no matter why you had it." Emma grumbled. "They... Calen the aliens are being weird."

  He had been right three reasons ago, but he wouldn't shut up until she said it out loud.

  "About your hands specifically," He agreed. "And I think we should get a second opinion the moment we get an alternative that doesn't want to eat us. And maybe even think about running before we get to whatever the secondary location is. Eastwatch."

  "Run where? Back into the woods? And go where? What if there's more—"

  "Em, they're dragon people. Dra-gon," He spread out the syllables, as if that would do a better job of communicating what he meant. "What do dragons do in stories?"

  "Hoard gold? We don't have any. Fight knights? Okay, they did that." Emma admitted. "Burn down villages? Already happened to us."

  Emma was surprised her voice didn't warble, making the last point. Then she remembered they had been leaving anyway.

  The house hadn't even looked like home anymore, with empty walls.

  "Lock young women away in towers." Calen said leadingly, dragging Emma back to the argument.

  "Princesses and—" Emma's brow furrowed, and she stopped. "You better not be saying I'm a—"

  "Not what I meant! I'll be sure to tell them they're better off throwing me in the volcano instead, if it's that," Calen corrected himself quickly. "But they separated us out because they thought we were nobility. They're keeping us separate afterwards because of you. Whatever is up with my magic is apparently common enough that I don't have to hide my hands from other humans."

  "Calen these people are rescuing us. From cannibals," Emma frowned. "And they're letting us stay together. We can just ask them later, when—"

  Emma's throat refused to continue.

  She might not have a later, if magical potions didn't fix radiation damage, and only delayed it.

  Only Calen would, and he was ready to disappear into the monster-infested woods instead of trusting the most civilized people they knew on the planet.

  "Only because I couldn't run. Em, they stopped actually answering questions about magic the moment you told them we didn't know about mana on Earth." He stressed. "I think we need to be super careful about how much we trust these people. They have their own gods, their own rules, and all the power right now."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Someone snorted below the window.

  "It's like that everywhere, little rabbits." Sutai said.

  The tan alie— dragonborn was leaned up against the wall below the sill, like she was guarding the door.

  "You two don't whisper very well." She seemed almost amused at what she had overheard.

  "Sorry." Emma stuttered out the window. "We didn't—"

  "Please. I'm not one of them either." The priestess stepped away from the wall and tossed her head. "But for what it's worth, I can't think of a better place on Avarea to be trapped than Tenashki. My blade is bloody from the effort of getting here, and I'm not even certain that'll be enough for them to let me stay. There are few better places to grow in strength."

  "Strong doesn't matter to us." Emma shook her head, stepping on Calen's slipper when he opened his mouth to say something dumb. "Where's the safest place we can get?"

  It took her a second to realize the muted chirps Sutai was swallowing were giggles. The dragonborn was amused.

  "Then you're twice the fool. Strength breeds safety, and they have both here. Today's trouble chased the Venatrix here from halfway across the world." Sutai gave her spear and her skirts a twirl before resuming her musings. "Lucky you two, since you decided to sleep in a monster nest. Twice as lucky, catching the Warden's daughter in a good mood."

  "That was a good mood?" Calen squawked. "What's a bad mood look like?"

  "She's a fire mage raised on a hostile border with human tribes. I heard her squawking, and I was surprised she let a human male with fire channels walk out of that closet with all his skin intact," Sutai waved a claw at Calen and sighed. "But nobility is a cohort all its own no matter where you're from, so Arrivals or not, you two get potions each worth more than my armor poured down your throats, and off we go. Typical."

  Emma didn't really know how to handle the bitterness she was hearing, and Calen was busy squinting at his fingers. Sutai was already walking away by the time Emma finished turning back.

  "What? That knight in the corner was missing a finger. The one who shot at her." Calen muttered when Emma elbowed him. "Maybe that's a thing they do. Needing fingers to cast spells makes sense. Did you see she pointed her hand at you when she had the knife pointed at me? Like they were both weapons?"

  That had been odd. And Mirri had made sure Emma got a potion first, even though Calen was actually in the process of dying. She had chalked it up to guilt in the moment with so much else going on, but what if there was more to it? What if Mirri had been actively neglecting Calen because she thought he was less valuable?

  Mr. Isaacson being shepherded off with the knights might have had less to do with mana than something else, but they had no idea what game was being played. Any conclusions Emma drew here would be a guess.

  She would have to ask before they went anywhere. Before they split up at all. Doing this without Calen...

  Emma couldn't do this without Calen. Wouldn't. Whatever this was. Nobody had really said what came next.

  The priestess called back over her shoulder before Emma could finish formulating a reply though the rising tide of uncertainty that had gripped her.

  "They have the monster subdued, so things are likely to come to a close soon. You're welcome to stay behind if you like, but I'm supposed to tell you when to move." Sutai picked her way over a pile of rubble the giant serpent had crushed on its way over the wall. "It's now or never, really."

  The 'Venatrix', the huntress, tossed a roaring ball of flames over the wall as Sutai finished squelching across the yard to the destroyed gate.

  She was the one in charge.

  Or maybe the Seraph was, but the Seraph hurt to listen to, and didn't seem very talkative.

  So Emma was going to ask the Venatrix.

  "Come on." Emma told Calen. "We're going with them."

  She was halfway down the stairs, trying not to think about why her feet were sticking to them, when he caught up.

  "Just like that? Did you listen to a word I said? Em, what about—"

  Emma did not look at the corpse while she stepped around the blood on the floor. She kept her chin up, and forced Calen to follow her out the door into the rain if he wanted to keep talking.

  She whirled on him at the top of the steps, before he could start back up.

  "Do you have a better plan?" She asked. "Not a guess, or a maybe, an actual real plan to get us somewhere safe you know about and find mom and dad?"

  They both knew he didn't, but he would talk in circles about everything else if she didn't make him face it.

  Heat lightning flashed in the sky above. The footprints on the steps were messier now, more layered, but softer around the edges. The rain had begun to wash them away.

  They were just people. Mirri had said so. So Emma was going to ask for help, because that had been the plan. Find people, ask them for help.

  Even if they were scaly people with tails, horns, and big scary teeth.

  Calen scowled.

  "Off this cliff? No, but—"

  She didn't let him finish.

  "Then we're going with these people, because everyone else wants to eat us, and they know at least some of what's going on." Emma declared. "They've got a word for this, and protocols about it. That's more than we have."

  Mirri and Sutai were both priestesses of something, and had called Calen and Emma 'Arrivals'. They had an organized belief structure that included knowing about people on other planets, and expecting them. Maybe they knew more about what had happened.

  Or who else had made it from Earth.

  "Em, we still have no idea what they want from us," Calen fought through the mud beside Emma, rabbit ears flopping on one foot. He had lost the other slipper somewhere inside. "They're not responsible for us, they want something from you they can't get from Mr. Isaacson, and I'm along for the ride."

  "Actually I am responsible for you two," It was Mirri interrupting the argument this time. "At least until I get you to safety, so someone else can finish your Welcoming."

  Emma couldn't find it in her heart to care about whatever welcoming ritual they were supposed to complete before she finished dying.

  "Great. He goes first." She said.

  She had some questions for the Venatrix that would absolutely make Calen derail the conversation if he heard them, and she needed answers. If Calen was right, and these people wanted something, then she had leverage she could use to get him safe before she fell apart and stopped being useful to anyone.

  Unfortunately, neither he nor Mirri seemed enthusiastic about the idea.

  "Em, what the—"

  "If they want something from me, they have to bring me. So you go first." Emma repeated herself over his words. "No one gets left behind."

  She turned away from the scowl. Calen being mad couldn't stop her. Neither of them was in charge of what happened right now anyways.

  "That's not how this works," Mirri enunciated stiffly. "They won't charge until we're split enough we can't help each oth—"

  "They'll do it soon enough. They have the Wyrm subdued, they'll kill it so it can't recover and charge their backs soon," The Venatrix entered the fray, waving away Mirri's dismissal before Calen could butt in again. "Sutai, Mirri, take the little one down. Quickly."

  "Come on pipsqueak," Sutai wrapped her claws around Calen's shoulder and began to steer him away. "The first rule of flying as a passenger is 'don't squirm too much, or I'll have to drop you'. You wouldn't want to get down the cliff too fast, would you?"

  Mirri had put away the rigidity in her stance the moment the Venatrix instructed her otherwise, and was now cocking her head strangely at the other priestess.

  "I thought the first rule of flying passenger was no screaming."

  "For children maybe. Stop dragging your feet, little rabbit."

  "Em, be careful what you tell them!"

  Guilt twisted in Emma's gut watching Sutai drag Calen around the gate towards the cliff.

  She had done that. The Venatrix had let her, but Emma was the reason they were being split up, entrusting his life to the tan-scaled priestess who had cracked a man's elbow into bending the wrong way for sport, and the fire mage who had put a knife to his throat.

  Which had also been Emma's fault, for attacking Mirri in the first place.

  Emma called out to the second priestess before she could second-guess the decision.

  "Mirri."

  The green-scaled dragonborn turned her snout sideways to fix Emma with a one-eyed glare while she paused for a breath.

  Emma swallowed her hesitation, and said the rest.

  "If he doesn't land safe, I stop cooperating and spend the rest of my life being a problem instead."

  To her surprise, Mirri flinched where she stood. Raindrops tapped down around them while the dragonborn seemed to turn the idea over in her mind.

  Emma's breathing stopped almost entirely. Mirri's hesitation was confirmation she had leverage of some kind.

  Confirmation that they mattered as more than snacks for later.

  "He'll make it down safely. And not because of the threat." The priestess replied after an endless second, turning her head away. "Dropping him would be a waste of a good potion."

  Emma barely heard the second part of Mirri's reply over the wind.

  The world didn't leave her nearly long enough to wonder if she had just made a mistake.

  "Vowing eternal vengeance against my apprentice is an interesting way to start your inquiry." Mahira's voice drifted over Emma's shoulder after Mirri had stalked out of sight.

  "Sorry. I didn't mean—" Emma whirled to face the silver-clad huntress on the wall behind her, and beheld her reflection instead.

  The Venatrix had dropped from the wall in near-total silence, and was peering through the gateway past Emma. The hanging slab of silver on her arm was wicking away the rain with impossible efficiency, maintaining its own mirrored polish.

  "Yes you did. Ask your question," A fireball's detonation punctuated the response. "Time is growing short."

  The Venatrix hadn't even bothered looking at Emma, too busy cradling another fistful of flames and eyeing the treeline. The Seraph was a statue, their body pointed away from the conversation.

  At least someone was paying attention to the cannibals while Emma made a mess of things on her way out.

  "How long do I have?" She blurted. "Before I finish dying. How long did Mirri buy me?"

  Whatever was in that potion couldn't last forever. She had that long to figure out what 'safe' was and get Calen on his way there.

  Mahira cocked her head oddly at the sky and rubbed at the silver shaft of her spear with a thumb. A microscopic fleck of dirt might have been scraped away from its haft, but not one that Emma could see.

  "Did she give you half, or the whole thing?" Emma's question warranted consideration, apparently.

  "Half." Emma whispered.

  The Venatrix looked down again, having come to a determination.

  There was a look almost like pity, in her unfamiliar eyes.

  Emma braced herself for the worst. Days, maybe hours.

  It couldn't be minutes, or there would have been more of a rush to get whatever they needed from her. The golden dragonborn who had first noticed her hands had said they might see each other at Eastwatch, that meant travel time.

  Unless the other tower was Eastwatch. That would be minutes away.

  "If Earth was truly barren of mana? And you're humming with that much power from just your landing, and half a potion?"

  Mahira prefaced her answer with a disclaimer or three, before dropping the guillotine.

  "I suspect your natural lifespan can be measured in millennia now."

  apprenticeship contracts were found on papyrus in Egypt, dated to 18 B.C.E., and the practice was ongoing in Europe as early as the twelfth century. The role was often an indentured one, where the apprentice would live with the artisan in question, and be provided food and lodging for the duration of their employment.

  While durations varied from two to seven years, a common prerequisite for graduation was the production of a 'masterwork', a showcasing of the young artisan's independent skill, and proof that they had learned their craft sufficiently to practice it on their own without marring their master's reputation.