I was weaving between trees before I saw the wasp, and by luck it was alone—because I couldn’t make myself slow down.

  I saw myself sting it through its eye and head before I even reached it. I could see my target clearly, envision myself doing it, and that certainty spurred me on to go faster.

  It was just meters away and still hadn’t noticed me. Then I felt the wind hit my back and speed me up, and it caught a whiff of me.

  It didn’t stiffen or panic. It didn’t react except to turn toward me. It was too late to stop my attack, but I was off target as well. When I turned to sting it, I hit its back instead.

  It was much bigger than me. My sting hurt it, but not enough to slow it down.

  So I did something that went against my instincts.

  As one of its wings flapped past my head, I bit down and let the force of the flap lift me off its body. I swung wildly, growing dizzy, and then I stung through the wing. I felt us fall and released my bite. In my head, I was already stabilizing myself in the air by flapping, but in reality I was too dizzy to know what was up or down. The best I could do was keep myself from hitting the ground too hard.

  I shook my head and looked around for the wasp. It hadn’t fallen far from me.

  The stupid creature didn’t understand that its wing wouldn’t work, so it was flapping and making the rip in the wing bigger.

  I flew up and looked down at it. It still felt strong, but confused. I flew higher to gain speed, then turned back. I gave up on smashing its head. I had cooled down somewhat after that first rush and realized this whole fight had been a mistake.

  I was supposed to find their home and destroy it.

  The wasp had stopped trying to use its torn wing and was staring toward me. I remembered how they had bitten through my sisters with those jaws.

  So I went right.

  As it jumped toward me, I zigzagged over. Its attack barely missed, and I could feel the whoosh as it went past.

  But I didn’t miss.

  I took the chance and twisted my body so I could bite its antenna to sling myself around it. I used the momentum to swing around and stung it in a smooth move. I loosened my grip on the damaged antenna as I stung over and over and over again.

  It stopped moving.

  I didn’t.

  I stung its neck again and again, just to be sure.

  When it was over, I finally felt my body properly. The landing had hurt me more than I’d realized, and it had even aggravated my old leg injury—even though that had fully healed.

  Shit. That was stupid. That wasn’t the plan.

  It didn’t even give me a level. Or a skill. Shouldn’t I get something like Sting or Bite? I could still feel liquid left in my stinger. Was that poison or something like that?

  Looking back on the fight, it had been mostly luck, not skill—if I was being honest. And being a queen, I needed to be honest.

  I’m not sure how I’m going to find its home. If I hadn’t done this, I could have just followed this thing to its home.

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  That’s when it hit me.

  Couldn’t I just smell where it came from?

  I started smelling the body, and it was disgusting. I think I even sensed what were supposed to be its last emotions, but they were so alien.

  Unlike flowers or bee pheromones, it was much harder to remember the smell. It didn’t settle into instinct at all.

  So I ripped off a small piece of its remaining antenna and flew in a wide circle, trying to pick up its scent.

  It took me a couple of rounds, but eventually I found a trail. I followed it slowly, keeping my senses open for potential enemies.

  I lost the trail a few times and almost flew straight into a bird nest full of new hatchlings. What an irresponsible mother—and so inefficient. Luck really was the word of the day. The parents weren’t there, but it also felt like my senses weren’t made to find creatures or danger, considering how often things like this kept happening.

  I kept feeling the mana, but it didn’t change.

  As I followed the trail, it suddenly cut off. I circled around and realized that a lot of scents had clumped together, rising upward.

  When I looked again, I realized I was directly beneath the nest.

  This is so great. Stupid senses.

  It was high up, but I could still see two of them crawling out of the malformed nest.

  I had planned to observe them.

  And those uncouth creatures didn’t give me the time.

  I flew in the opposite direction from where I’d come, planning to circle around. As I did, at least one of them gave chase.

  I tried weaving through spiderwebs and trees—straight through some of them—but I didn’t lose it. That’s when I realized it wasn’t just any wasp.

  It was a big one. Bigger than the one I’d killed.

  Some kind of nest guard, maybe.

  I could see spiderwebs clinging to it. It had just flown straight through them.

  Shit. Shit. It was gaining on me.

  I hoped the Dead Place would scare it off. I had a feeling it wouldn’t—probably too stupid to understand the danger.

  We flew over the treeline, and it stayed right behind me, completely unfazed.

  Stupid flying idiot.

  Let’s try the undead.

  But first, I needed to slow this thing down.

  I flew into a dense thicket just before clearing it. As we passed through the middle, I suddenly shot straight up. It slowed me a little—but it slowed the wasp more.

  Still, it managed to bite a small chunk out of my rump.

  That big shit.

  How dare it bite and deform my royal rump.

  It hurt. Shit.

  I tried to ignore the pain and looped around. I changed direction, and this time it took longer to follow, the foliage and branches getting in its way.

  I looped behind it and stung at its back, aiming for a wing—but I couldn’t see what I hit as it twisted, trying to bite me again.

  I froze for a heartbeat, about to sting again, then fear and the pain from the bite jolted me back into motion.

  I flew past it and kept going.

  Now let’s try the undead.

  I hadn’t hurt it much, and I was already injured.

  It didn’t feel like I was bleeding—probably thanks to my plump rump.

  It was still far behind, but gaining again. My sting didn’t seem to have done anything.

  Shouldn’t I have gotten some kind of stinging skill by now?

  Or a maneuvering skill?

  I spotted larger spiderwebs and maneuvered between them, slipping past smaller nets and flying through or alongside any web I could.

  I took a quick look back. I could still see it, more spiderwebs clinging to it now, and it looked like it had something in its mouth. Was that a spider?

  But there was more distance between us, and it didn’t seem to be gaining anymore. At least not for now.

  We were close to one of the undead. Why was it so persistent?

  Now the question was whether I could make this big shit shift its target or just make the undead squash it somehow.

  We went around a tree, and I saw it—the patrolling undead. The wasp didn’t stop, but it slowed down somewhat.

  This might work.

  But then it sped up again, chasing me at full speed. So maybe not.

  I flapped harder and flew as low as I could, aiming for the pant leg of the undead. Hopefully the wasp was strong enough to make the undead feel the need to swat.

  But as I flew up the leg, the wasp landed on the undead and bit it.

  The idiot was trying to eat it.

  Now I just—

  The undead reacted more aggressively than I’d expected, and with me right in the pant leg.

  I abandoned any thought of flying out and just kept going up. The leg was stomping, and I wasn’t sure, but I thought it was hitting itself.

  I landed as high as I could and held on as the shaking worsened.

  I don’t know how long I was there, but I threw up twice, and it felt like something inside me was getting hurt.

  When I finally got out, I felt like shit. My leg was hurting, I felt awful, and my royal rump was screaming now that the adrenaline had faded.

  Worst of all, something inside me hurt, and it’s not like I could go to a doctor or anything.

  I took a quick look at the dead wasp, then flew on—

  and everything went dark.