Darragh hated himself for burning the forest he grew up in, but law is the law. Adam, in his sublime wisdom, declared these woods unholy; and it was the sacred charge of all Good Brothers to impose the Will of Adam. A privilege, really, an honor. No other native Safoan had ever risen so far in the Church. Darragh’s father was beaming with pride the day Darragh earned his Keeper’s robes. Silently, Darragh thanked Godking his father wasn’t alive to see him now.

  Darragh stumbled over the charred remains of a deer foal.

  “Look where you’re stepping!” Janus griped as he shouldered the extra weight of the canoe.

  Darragh and four other Brothers were carrying a canoe across an ashen wasteland. Heavy smoke darkened the noon sun. Today, their task would be to cross the Ojibwe River and burn all the trees that escaped the fire last night. All around them, black tree stumps dotted the land like headstones.

  Yesterday, they found ruins of a cabin with the smoldering remains of two people embracing. Darragh figured they must have been old pagans; otherwise, they would have attended Church and known to move to Waterbreak.

  It wasn’t Darragh’s fault those people died.

  Godking, the smell of their bodies. Like a sweet roast pork.

  It wasn’t his fault. They knew the law. To deny Adam is to invite destruction.

  Why didn’t they move to Waterbreak?

  He didn’t mean to kill anybody.

  Why did they make him do it?

  It’s not his fault.

  “We’ll rest here a moment,” said Good Brother Esbern with a winded sigh. Esbern was the eldest member of their party. A black wide-rim hat covered his bald head; his wispy grey beard barely concealed a soft chin. The ugliest snake Darragh had ever seen coiled around Esbern’s shoulders like a scarf. It looked like a large blue earthworm.

  Esbern was too old and frail to carry the canoe, so Darragh, Janus, Marty, and Calvin shouldered the load. But the journey and the weight of their task had exhausted Esbern, and his usual calm equanimity was turning dark and mournful.

  Janus groaned loudly as they set the canoe down. “These constant stops are killing my back. I wasn’t bred for physical labor.”

  Marty teased, “You must have been the runt of your litter to be sent here.”

  “Shove it up your ass, Marty,” Janus said.

  “I’ll shove my jokes up mine the day you shove your bitchin’ up yours,” Marty answered.

  “Let’s show a little respect, Good Brothers,” chastened Esbern as he leaned against a burnt tree stump. “Marty, please send Silver to scout ahead. We’re almost at the Ojibwe River. I’d like a good, clear pass before we arrive.”

  “Sure,” Marty nodded agreeably and gave the orders to his grey parrot familiar. Marty gave Silver a toss, launching him high in the air.

  Calvin and Darragh each began rolling a smoke. Calvin’s heightened senses left him miserable out in this wasteland. Smoking gave him a singular focus to distract from the barrage of death and gloom surrounding them.

  Janus made a disgusted face. Smoking was unpopular back in Garden. He preferred to drink wine from a flask he stored in his breast pocket.

  Marty grabbed a granola bar and went for a walk. Darragh was still smoking when Marty ran back down the hill, waving excitedly for everyone to gather close.

  “Silver says he saw someone at the forest line across the river,” he whispered. “Someone talking to a fae.”

  Marty paused for dramatic effect.

  “We should throw fire across the river and run in the opposite direction,” Calvin said.

  “We need that fae,” Janus said. “If we bring proof back to Waterbreak the woods were sheltering unholy creatures, the yokels will have to cease their bleating.”

  “Those locals mourn the loss of life our task necessitates,” Esbern reminded them. “That our task is necessary makes it no less tragic. Safoans will mourn this event for generations.”

  Darragh quietly agreed with both Janus and Esbern. They needed the fae, dead or alive, to prove their tragic task had merit. But Darragh had no illusions about local gratitude or acceptance. He would never be forgiven for his part in Safo’s burning.

  “But we do need the fae,” Darragh repeated. “The challenge will be in crossing the river without being seen. Janus, you can hide us with an illusion, yes?”

  Janus bristled at some perceived offense. He scoffed, “Of course.”

  “And Marty, you can make us silent,” Darragh continued.

  “That’s not how my powers work, but yeah, so long as no one makes unnecessary sounds, I can redirect the noise we make away and behind us,” said Marty.

  “I’ll take out the fae with my sling. Calvin remains our lookout, and Esbern takes the rear. Sound good?” said Darragh.

  “Hold up,” Janus sneered. “We’re all just following the lead of a Keeper? Marty, are you so lazy you let your Keeper-”

  “That’s enough!” Esbern was old and frail but still had mettle in him. “You dishonor yourself, Janus. Darragh’s plan is sound. We will all follow it to the letter.” Esbern took one last, weary sigh. Then he said, “Grab the canoe and move out. We can’t waste any time. Silver, lead the way.”

  Janus looked furious but remained silent. Darragh smirked to see Janus embarrassed but was too pragmatic to give that preening brat a second thought.

  The approach went as planned. Janus erected a flat, illusory wall, so anyone on the other side of the river would see a simple, floating log. Marty mumbled in a focused trance, ensuring no one would hear their paddles or footsteps. Once they’d crossed the river and secured the canoe, Darragh only needed a clear line of sight.

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  It was jarring how vibrant and full of life the forest was on this side of the river. Birds chirped and little critters scurried in the underbrush. They followed Silver’s lead until they finally caught sight of their target in a bright mossy clearing. She was a little green person with a red petal dress on, gliding in the air on gossamer wings. And she was talking to a human. Darragh thought the human looked unusually pretty for a male, tall, young, and athletic, with wavy black hair.

  Darragh picked up a small round stone and loaded the sling. Again, Janus erected a flat, illusory wall, so the targets wouldn’t see Darragh winding up a stone. Marty redirected the whistling sounds of the sling so they wouldn’t hear them.

  As he spun the sling in the air, Darragh’s perception of time slowed to a crawl. To an outside perspective, it might look like heightened speed or reflexes or even time dilation, but Darragh had none of those abilities. Darragh could perceive time’s passing more slowly, giving him more time to be responsive and precise.

  It was that precision that made Darragh such an excellent sling thrower. As he spun the sling around and snapped his wrist exactly, the stone dislodged and flew through the air.

  The little green person was dead before she knew what hit her. The stone passed through her upper chest, dislodging her head, which bounced on the ground next to her dead, twitching body. The young man's screams of horror and grief were gut-wrenching and would haunt Darragh’s nightmares for the rest of his life. But as with most uncomfortable feelings, Darragh bottled them away and concentrated on the task in front of him.

  Darragh, Calvin, Marty, and Janus rushed forward to subdue the young man. He made little resistance, only screams and sobs. He was swiftly tied up.

  Calvin was distressed, fidgeting nervously. “We should burn this place before anyone else knows we were here.” People from Exile were known to be superstitious. It would seem that stereotype held true in Calvin’s case.

  Janus rolled his eyes. “Tail set firmly between your legs, already. We need to interrogate our prisoner!”

  “This isn’t a prison, and we don’t have a cage,” Marty corrected.

  “Hostage, then,” Janus shrugged.

  “Mm. We’re not demanding a ransom. I’d say he’s more of a captive,” Marty said.

  “Shove it up your ass, Marty!” said Janus.

  “Enough,” barked Esbern. “Secure the perimeter, all of you. Darragh, tie our guest to that tree. I’d like to ask him some questions.”

  Everyone followed Esbern’s orders. Darragh felt a pang of guilt as he dragged the sobbing young man to the nearest tree. But Darragh hardened his resolve. His role was clear. He ensured the binds weren’t cruel, but tight enough the captive wouldn’t escape.

  Esbern stood over the crying captive. “What’s your name, son?”

  He looked around frantically. “I’m… I’m Easy,” he said between hiccups.

  “We’ll see about that,” chimed Marty.

  “Ignore him,” Esbern said kindly. “He thinks he’s funny.”

  Easy sniffled and wiped his nose on his shoulder.

  Esbern continued, “What were you doing out here with an unholy creature?”

  “I- I didn’t know she was unholy. I just… I was just trying to…”

  “Trying to what? What business do you have with the fae?” Esbern demanded.

  Easy’s face twisted in despair. “It’s my mom. She’s… she’s sick. I thought maybe Queen Titia could help.”

  “Queen Titia!? This one was a queen? How many subjects did she have?” asked Esbern intently.

  “I don’t know! Dozens maybe?”

  “Are there others? Other creatures besides this queen and her subjects?”

  Easy stammered. “I- I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone else.”

  “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

  Easy glanced around. He shook his head. “I came alone.”

  Esbern nodded seriously. He stepped away from their captive and waved the Brothers in for a quiet discussion.

  “What does everyone think?” asked Esbern.

  “He’s lying,” confirmed Calvin.

  “Of course, he’s lying,” Janus condescended. “We should just kill him and be done with the loose end. We already have proof with the fae’s body.”

  “He knows more than he’s letting on,” Darragh offered. “I’d like to bring him back to the Church for further interrogation. The Elder Brothers will want to know what he knows.”

  “Killing him seems the easier choice,” said Marty. “I’m all for killing him and burning the evidence.”

  “We should burn this place and leave before the fae’s subjects come seeking revenge!” Calvin sounded on the verge of panicking.

  “Will you stop being hysterical?” said Janus.

  “I’ve made a decision,” said Esbern. “We will carry on our mission. This forest needs to burn. Easy will remain bound and be dragged behind us until we return to Waterbreak. Darragh and Calvin will guard the prisoner.”

  “Captive,” corrected Marty.

  Esbern continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Marty, you can carry the fae’s remains to the canoe. Janus, help an old man prepare lunch, would you?”

  “We need to leave,” repeated Calvin.

  “And we will leave, just as soon as we’ve had a proper meal and a moment’s rest,” Esbern said firmly. “You all have your orders. Hop to.”

  Everyone seemed personally offended, but no one talked back. Esbern was feared and respected. He wasn’t assigned a Keeper. Even at his advanced age, Esbern didn’t need a Keeper. He could control the temperature of his body, which didn’t seem like a particularly useful power to Darragh at first, but then he witnessed Esbern’s mastery over his body temperature.

  The old man carefully knelt down to pick up a handful of dry sticks. He squeezed the sticks with his fist, and smoke rose from it. Esbern’s hand glowed red hot, and the sticks caught fire. He threw the burning branches down and picked up more. Soon, a roaring blaze began to spread.

  Janus grumbled that such menial duties were beneath him, but he fetched provisions all the same. After food was skewered and cooked, Esbern turned a sad eye to their captive.

  “I know your name’s not Easy, but there is an easy way to do this. The easy way gets you untied and one of these lamb skewers. The not-so-easy way gets you burnt. You understand what I’m saying?”

  Silent tears fell from Easy’s face. He understood.

  “I’m going to ask some more questions. And my friend here will know if you’re lying,” Esbern gestured toward Calvin, who was fidgeting nervously. Janus rolled his eyes.

  Easy looked back and forth and all around for any sort of reprieve, but nothing came. He didn’t scream or sob or plead. He shook like a puppy as tears fell down his face.

  Darragh felt miserable. He wanted to look away or stop this, but he held firm.

  Esbern asked gravely, “Why are you in these woods?”

  Trembling, Easy said, “My mom… she’s… she needs help.”

  Esbern looked over at Calvin.

  Calvin nodded. That part was true.

  Esbern continued, “And the fae said she’d help you save your mother, is that it?”

  Easy nodded.

  Calvin nodded.

  “Why didn’t you come to the Church for help?” Esbern asked.

  Easy looked around like a cornered animal. “My parents never took me to Church.”

  “Hm. You said your mother was sick. What about your father?”

  Easy seemed to shrink lower. “He’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. So you’re all alone, is that right?”

  Easy nodded.

  “Wait,” Calvin interrupted. “He’s lying.”

  Esbern sighed sadly. “Son, who else is in the woods with you?”

  Easy’s trembling increased. He shook his head. “There’s nobody.”

  Esbern looked over at Calvin. Calvin shook his head. Easy was lying.

  Again, Esbern sighed. He put a gentle hand on Easy’s throat. “I’m going to ask one more time. Who else entered the woods with you?”

  Easy sobbed but said nothing.

  Esbern lowered his head. Then his hand started to glow, and Easy started to scream.

  Darragh felt sick. Calvin stared at the ground and wrung his hands. Marty was eating a lamb skewer, looking bored and disinterested. Janus watched Esbern with hungry fascination.

  Suddenly, a reprieve. A dark blur flashed by, followed by loud squawks and a lot of scared shouting. It all happened in an instant. Silver the grey parrot familiar was dead and gone, carried off by a large bird of prey.

  “I was almost killed!” Marty screamed at Darragh. “You’re supposed to be my Keeper! Now my familiar is dead! Do you have any idea how expensive those things are to replace!? Of course, you don’t, you pleb! The waitlist alone takes years!”

  “Now who’s whining?” taunted Janus.

  “Shove it up your ass, you smug little prick!” Marty screamed back.

  “I told you we need to get out of here!” Calvin shouted. “The forest spirits want revenge. We have to go!”

  “That wasn’t a spirit, you rube. That was just a bird in the woods,” Janus spat.

  Esbern, meanwhile, had ceased his interrogation. He was leaning against a tree, looking pale and frailer than Darragh had ever seen him.

  Easy cried softly. A hand-shaped burn mark blistered his throat.

  “Pack up,” Esbern ordered, his voice lacking some of that earlier steel. “Throw some logs onto that fire and be sure it spreads. Then, everybody back to the canoe. We’ll set up camp on the other side of the river.”