“He’s an asshole,” Akilah spat, her chin quivering. She flung her hands up and ranted, “I can’t believe I fell for that! You know? I knew what we were dealing with and—and…”

  Her lips twisted and her jaw clenched, hands curling into fists. She was angrier at herself for falling for it than at Ashwynn. We trailed through a hollow of birch, their golden leaves shuddering in the soft breeze. Night approached, shadows stretching long. Though the small star that lit the bizarre world would sink, the glow of the three moons gave enough light to follow the path.

  Once we were well out of sight of the glade behind us, I paused. Akilah’s head hung low, arms still around herself. I nodded at Jake and Elora to go ahead. They’d already begun to chat about the experience with a blend of grumbles and chuckles.

  Aran nudged a small pile of leaves by the side of the path, ignoring us.

  Akilah stopped and stared at my feet. “There’s some ick on your boot.”

  “Chewed-up carrot,” I explained, looking down, having forgotten about it. Scraping my foot against a tree, I awkwardly got most of it off.

  Balancing on one leg, scrubbing my foot against birch, I asked, “You okay? That fae lord…”

  I wasn’t great with emotions, but it didn’t mean I didn’t understand.

  “We barely had a chance. That guy is the lord of a whole district for a reason,” I offered. “There’s no shame in being trampled by the power difference.”

  “You didn’t get trampled!”

  Okay, now she was mad at me.

  “You beat Lord Ashwynn at his own game.” Aran piped up glumly, then continued to poke around in the underbrush looking for something. Likely a poisonous snake. Poor guy. And yet, I also wanted to smack him upside his head for rubbing salt in Akilah's emotional wounds.

  “I didn’t eat the food. I moved it to my inventory, then tossed it on the ground.” I demonstrated my explanation by showing her my mostly clean boot.

  “I didn’t eat it, either.” Akilah stalked the short distance to me, poking her finger against my chest. “You didn’t get pulled into the spell. How?”

  “I have a freakishly strong WILL,” I said with a shrug.

  Akilah snorted and poked my chest again. Then her expression shifted, and she gave my pec another poke. “Swole motherfucker.”

  She waved a dismissive hand at me and strode off after Jake and Elora. Not the reaction I expected, but hey, at least she wasn’t freaked out anymore. She was just pissed. I could deal with anger better than with the sense of violation she probably felt.

  I stood there a moment, rubbing my chest. Weird how people felt okay about just touching me like that. Was that a compliment? Her tone was still angry.

  “Lord Ashwynn will watch you,” Aran murmured, shuffling back to the path.

  That soft statement shot chills up my spine and warmed—other stuff. Hormones shouldn’t be a thing in-game, so it had to be the fae hoodoo. That thought made it easier to ignore.

  I strode after the others, only to hit the end of the rope. With a sigh, I turned and bent, sweeping Aran up onto my shoulder. Air left his lungs in a squeaking rush. I spun around to jog after the crew.

  As he bounced on my shoulder, I found myself thinking about Akilah poking my tit. I wasn’t any better. Hauling the elf around was only one of many examples from that day.

  We found the little faun by a pasture. Her gingham dress did little to hide her deer-like legs. As we came around the vine-woven fence, her two long, twitching ears swiveled toward us. Sheep bleated, huddled together in a clump within the enclosure, and one of her deer ears flicked in that direction.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Do you have a task for me, kid?” I called, even before my little group got to her.

  She wrung her furry hands and toddled over, her gait a little off. “Oh, sir, please find my Lambkin! I’m afraid the wolves or the foxes have come and stolen her away!”

  Didn’t seem like the backstabbing type, but I wasn’t certain. She looked like she was nine years old—or maybe an underfed twelve—but the fae folk had a reputation for being deceptively young… or old. I wasn’t sure if they hit all the typical fae bullet points I’d read about.

  “Alright. I’ll look for Lambkin,” I said.

  My map updated with a new marker. This time it didn’t point me to a glade or a pond, but to a dense forested area. I glanced at the others.

  Akilah gave me a barely patient look. Jake leaned on the fence, reaching out to the sheep. Elora perched on the top beam, gazing up at the stars.

  From my shoulder, Aran asked, “Is hanging your head upside down for a long time dangerous?”

  “Don’t think so,” I replied.

  He sniffed and went quiet again.

  “Okay, guys. It looks like the way is going to get difficult. There’s no path to that part of the forest on my map,” I said.

  “No problem, I have WILDERNESS: Blaze Path,” Elora said, hopping off the fence.

  I squinted at her curiously. “What’s your Class?”

  “I’m a Druid,” she proclaimed, her narrow chest puffing out with pride.

  I should have guessed she was a Druid by the deerskins she wore. Elora must’ve been a new abductee, like the rest of us, with a basic understanding of the System, no doubt from gameplay back home. Capable, since she knew her own class. Nice.

  I headed for the dark woods on the far side of the grazing pasture. The trees were dense and menacing; the underbrush appeared impassable in the distance.

  “Can you turn into animals?” Jake asked, taking a bouncing step toward the elf.

  Elora’s mouth twitched, and she hedged, “Maybe.”

  “What’s ‘maybe’ supposed to mean?” Akilah snapped.

  “She doesn’t owe us anything,” I said gently, adding, “And we don’t owe her anything either. Right now, there’s safety in numbers.”

  Surviving Heartland was beneficial to all of us. I came from a culture of teamwork, thanks to my job. More hands meant we got more done. In this case, more eyes watching for trouble ensured safety.

  Akilah’s gaze hardened. She looked me over once, then huffed, “What’s the point? I failed the quest chain.”

  “I haven’t yet," I said, ducking a branch. "All we need is for someone to get Rep enough to make our sub-unit, right? We can still do this.” I needed to impress the pragmatic side. She got shook, but it was just bad luck. We chose the wrong faction to grind, but then again, who’s to say if another would’ve been easier?

  Elora led the way, and I followed close behind, guiding her in the right direction. At the edge of the forest, honeysuckle bushes grew tight, knitted together like a web of limbs studded with tiny flowers. She drew up to them and touched them. A green flash of light passed through the bushes, and they untangled, bending aside.

  “Step quick. The path will close behind us,” Elora explained, moving along the narrow path. Barely wide enough for deer, the path flattened and bent back. I put Aran down and led him like a wayward puppy.

  He walked without struggle or protest, as he had since the beginning. I couldn’t wait to solve his issue. It felt wrong to drag him around. Did it anyway.

  “Do you think there are predators near here?” His voice held a wan hopefulness that made me sigh. I didn’t bother answering.

  Elora parted every living obstacle we came across. I heard Jake gasp and paused until he prodded me forward. I glanced back to see Akilah clinging to his arm. In the deep woods’ black shadows, she was probably blind.

  Not long after, my ears twitched at a distant hum. Voices in the woods wove a wordless, unearthly tune that sent an unpleasant tingle up my arms. Elora glanced back at me, hesitating to move further. I nodded and touched a finger to my lips. We’d approach quietly.

  After another minute of picking our way around fallen trees and past bramble coaxed aside by Elora, I spotted a glimpse of a fire between the trees. The forest floor opened up, less tangled this deep. Leaves in multiple stages of decay muffled our approach, save the occasional traitorous crunch.

  Beyond the thick trunks of trees unlike any from my home world, there was a gathering of fae folk. Sprites, fauns, and elves stood around a small natural clearing. A bonfire licked up toward a starry break in the canopy. Smoke curled skyward, pale against the deep forest night.

  A little lamb lay on a stone altar, tied down by rope. Beside it, a wicked dagger in hand, was none other than Urstana.

  I whipped around, leveling Aran with an accusing stare. “Your girlfriend is gonna sacrifice a little girl’s lamb at this sketchy cult fest?”

  “Blood to feed Magara,” Aran said, unshaken by this turn of events.

  Of course he wasn’t surprised. For all I knew, this happened every damn night. He’d likely have been one of the choir singing that nerve-wracking tune, if not for the curse.

  “That’s fucked up,” Akilah whispered.

  I grabbed Aran’s shoulders and bent to get in his face. I hissed, “Quick, tell me what I need to know about this ritual and what has to be sacrificed.”

  Lamb-murdering, curse-slinging witch or not, I wasn’t about to let Urstana screw up my shot to get the rep we needed to achieve my ultimate goal.

  -ARCHIVE-