Alyra crouched low behind the damp rock she’d been hiding behind for hours, buried deep in the dense undergrowth of the jungle.

  Sierelith sat a few meters away, leaning against the base of an ancient gravethorn tree. She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling into the faintest smirk. “I already told you. They can’t find us here. I placed an illusion screen over this whole area. Those dumb undead wouldn’t know how to look for us even if they wanted to.”

  Alyra cautiously raised her head and peeked around the edge of the boulder. The jungle beyond was a soggy mess of wet leaves, knotted vines, and twisted branches, curling around them like a rotting cocoon. The constant buzz of insects mixed with birdsong and distant animal cries in a deafening, chaotic symphony.

  A dragonfly the size of her hand zipped past her ear. The sudden whirr made her flinch, and she ducked back behind the rock.

  Sierelith rolled her eyes. “You seriously need to relax. It’s just a bug. There are millions of them in this damn jungle. You can’t jump every time one flutters past. I told you, we are safe.”

  Alyra slowly lifted her head again, her throat dry. The jungle pulsed with life. Things moved constantly in the underbrush, and there was no telling whether it was just small critters or something worse.

  A shadow passed over the canopy. She glanced up. Clouds were starting to gather. Maybe a storm was coming. She hoped it was just a stray cloud.

  She lowered her gaze again. Nothing attacked her.

  Her shoulders relaxed a little, and she leaned back against the rock more comfortably.

  Maybe, just maybe, nothing was trying to kill her right now.

  At least, nothing from the jungle.

  Her kidnapper, on the other hand, was a different story.

  Back when she had been taken, after being blinded by some kind of spell, the woman had blindfolded her and forced her to walk for hours with a blade pressed to her throat.

  Or at least, Alyra had assumed it was a blade.

  It had been cold, metallic, and never left her skin for a second.

  She had lost count of how many times she had wondered what would happen if she tripped. With that cold blade pressed to her throat, even a stumble could have slit her open. And with a blindfold over her eyes, guided only by a hand on her shoulder through thick, tangled jungle, it had felt far too likely.

  When she tried protesting, the kidnapper had just told her to stop whining and claimed everything would be fine.

  Now, Sierelith reached into one of the wide pockets on her skirt and pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle. She unfolded it calmly, revealing a large, ripe suralka fruit. The deep purple peel meant it was perfectly mature.

  Alyra couldn’t remember ever seeing one that big. It had to be delicious. Her stomach growled.

  Sierelith pulled a small knife from another pocket and jerked her chin toward her. “Want some? I picked it up on the way here. The fruit around this place is huge—must be a side effect of that broken Life sphere. But I doubt anyone’s gonna mind if we help ourselves.”

  Alyra swallowed and instinctively touched her neck. That had to be the same knife that had been pressed against her throat for hours. It looked a lot smaller than she remembered.

  Sierelith waited, frowning.

  She needed food if she wanted to keep her strength up. She nodded once.

  With a flick of her wrist, Sierelith cut off a thick wedge of fruit. The bright orange pulp nearly glowed, and yellow juice spilled in heavy streams. She handed the dripping slice to Alyra, who snatched it quickly.

  Without a word, Sierelith began cutting a piece for herself.

  Alyra watched her for a moment. The woman moved like this was just a casual picnic.

  What the hell did she want from her? Why drag her out of the novice school and force her to march through a jungle crawling with undead?

  If she’d wanted to kill her, she would’ve done it by now. Right?

  Instead, she was… waiting. For something. Alyra needed to figure out what. And fast.

  But first, she needed energy.

  She bit into the fruit. Sweet, refreshing juice exploded across her tongue, filling her mouth. A warm trickle ran down her chin. She wiped it with her finger and sucked it clean. Only then did she realize how thirsty she was.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Which made sense. She’d been walking for hours without water, after sweating like crazy during training. Her legs ached. Every muscle screamed.

  The fruit was a blessing. She devoured it to the rind, savoring the spicy aftertaste that marked the best suralkas. Her body thanked her. And demanded more.

  She looked up. Sierelith was already holding out another slice.

  She took it without a word and bit in.

  Questions could wait.

  Within a minute, the fruit was gone. Hunger and thirst hadn’t disappeared, but they weren’t gnawing at her anymore.

  Sierelith grabbed a broad, wet leaf from a nearby branch and wiped her hands clean. After a moment, Alyra did the same.

  “Feeling better?” Sierelith asked, her tone as smug as ever.

  Alyra frowned. “Why did you bring me here?”

  Sierelith blinked. “Took you long enough to ask. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”

  Alyra shifted uneasily. “I thought you were going to kill me. You kept that knife to my throat the entire time.”

  Sierelith glanced at the blade still in her hand, gave a half-smile, and wiped it with the same leaf before wrapping it back up and tucking it into her pocket. “I never used this knife. What you felt wasn’t real. Just an illusion. I made you believe it was there so you wouldn’t try to run. I wasn’t about to spend hours actually pressing a blade to your throat. Too tiring. And far too risky.”

  Alyra blinked. “But I…”

  Sierelith sighed. “You really are a child.”

  “That wasn’t real?” Alyra whispered.

  “Nope. Just a trick,” Sierelith said, stretching with a tired groan. “You’re lucky I’m good at this stuff. I didn’t feel like walking all the way with a blade in my hand. Getting here was exhausting enough.”

  She’s completely unhinged. “But… why bring me here? I mean, why both of us? This zone is dangerous. A broken sphere fell here! My whole village was destroyed by something just like this.”

  The memory made Alyra’s throat tighten, but she forced it down. This wasn’t the time to cry.

  “It had to be here,” Sierelith replied. “The Cashnar—if he really is who they say—needs to believe you’re in danger.”

  Alyra’s eyes widened. “Are you insane? We are in danger! This isn’t some act!”

  Sierelith shrugged. “I’ve got everything under control. Like I said, no need to worry. We have food, water… if you’re still hungry, I can grab another fruit.” She drew two invisible circles in the air. “No one can find us inside the illusion bubble I created. Not even the undead.”

  Alyra jumped to her feet, face flushed. Was this woman completely delusional? “What does Derek—the Cashnar—have to do with me? What’s the point of all this?”

  Sierelith narrowed her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. You’re not fooling anyone, little Alyra.”

  She blinked. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

  The kidnapper stroked her chin, studying her. “For some reason, the Cashnar cares about you. I’ve watched you for a while. I’ve read your aura. You’ve got potential, sure, but nothing that explains his interest. Still, he cares. Which means he’s probably on his way here. Maybe he’s already close. I made sure it wouldn’t be too hard for him to find us. So no need to worry.”

  Alyra rubbed her forehead. “You keep saying that, but I still have no idea what we’re doing here.”

  Sierelith’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. “I’m here to uncover the truth about the Cashnar. That’s my mission—well, part of it. I was hoping to get a reading on his aura, but apparently he can mask or alter it. Unreal. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She shook her head, clearly impressed. “That alone might be proof enough that he’s the real deal… but I doubt my father would settle for just that.”

  Alyra frowned. “Your father?”

  “Yeah. Maybe you’ve heard of him. His name’s Korrigan Malzar.” She dipped her head with a mock-polite nod. “I’m Sierelith. Sierelith Malzar.”

  Alyra’s jaw dropped. She stumbled back, tripped over a root, and landed hard on her rear. “You’re… the daughter of the heretic leader?!”

  Sierelith nodded lazily. “So you have heard of him. Good. Saves me the trouble of explaining. Though, just for the record, you people are the real heretics. Orbisar never wanted the spheres locked away for the few.” She sighed and glanced up at the darkening sky. A faint smile played on her lips. “My father’s going to change that. Anyone with talent and determination will be able to seek out the power of the spheres. As it should be.”

  Alyra’s breath hitched. She was sitting next to the daughter of the enemy of the Church. If the High Priestess even suspected she’d spoken to her, Alyra’s future in the Church would be over. Worse—she might be arrested. Imprisoned for life for consorting with the enemy.

  Sierelith raised a brow. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to eat you. I just need to force your Derek’s hand. I need to see what he’s really capable of. If he’s the Messiah come to save this world, wiping out a few undead shouldn’t be a problem, right? Watching him fight should give me the answers I need.”

  Alyra swallowed. “And… if he’s not?”

  The illusionist shrugged. “Then we leave. I’ll take you back to where I found you. If Derek isn’t the Messiah, you’re of no use to me. Though, if you ever did want to join us…” She flashed a sly smile. “We don’t have entry exams. If you want to learn how to control sphere energy, we can teach you.”

  Alyra recoiled. “No way! I’m going back to training. I want to become a Warden like Isabelle! I want to fight beside her!”

  “Suit yourself,” Sierelith said with a shrug. “But if you change your mind, my father’s always open to new recruits. Especially one with your aura.”

  Alyra stared at her feet. “I… I don’t think Derek will come.”

  Sierelith’s expression shifted. Her strange green eyes narrowed. “Why would you say that?”

  Alyra’s voice was resigned. “I spent time with him, on the way to Rothmere. He talked a lot about things he needs to accomplish. I don’t know what they are, but they seemed important. He doesn’t believe in the Church, or in faith, or in Orbisar. Or in this world. Why would he care about me?”

  Sierelith brought a thumb to her lips, biting the nail in thought. “Are you sure? But… he’s the Cashnar. How can he speak as if Orbisar means nothing to him? I remember the sacred texts saying he would deny being the Messiah… but this is beyond anything I imagined.”

  Alyra raised her head. Her eyes were steady. “I don’t care if he’s the Cashnar or not. All I know is, he’s fulfilled every prophecy so far. Even the ones he tried to avoid. I saw it myself. A tribe of sacred monkeys placed a sphere of Orbisar in his hands. And it was whole.”

  Sierelith’s eyes widened. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re serious?”

  Alyra nodded. “When we all saw it, when we knelt before him as the Messiah… he was furious. He hates being called that. I think… it scares him.”

  Sierelith closed her eyes for a moment, then let out a long sigh. “That changes nothing. My father will only believe my testimony. Whatever happened with the monkeys or the bronze sphere doesn’t matter. His distrust of Uriela runs deep. He won’t be easily convinced that this whole Cashnar thing isn’t just another one of her schemes. I need to see it for myself.”

  She nodded toward Alyra. “My source said he would come. That aside from his armor and those secret pursuits he guards so closely… you’re the one thing he truly cares about.”

  Alyra blinked. “What are you talking about? You have a source? Who is it?”

  Sierelith shook her head. “Do I look like someone who gives up her sources?” She waved a hand dismissively. “You’re just a kid. You don’t know anything.”

  Alyra clenched her fists. “You’re not that much older than me!”

  “I have more experience. I’ve traveled the world with my father. You, according to my source, spent most of your life in some stupid jungle village.”

  Stupid village?

  Heat flared in Alyra’s chest. Images of her parents flashed behind her eyes. Their laughter at dinner. Bedtime stories by the fire. Her tiny room filled with all her little treasures.

  “Hey, what are you… let go of me!” Sierelith tried to shout, but it came out as a strangled gasp.

  But it was enough to snap Alyra back to the present. She looked down.

  Her hands were clenched around Sierelith’s collar. She’d yanked her forward, their faces inches apart. She was growling. Panting. Her teeth bared like an animal.

  She hadn’t even realized what she was doing. This had never happened before.

  And now… now she didn’t want to let go. “You don’t talk about my home like that!” A tear slid down her cheek. Her hands were full. She couldn’t wipe it away.

  Or the others that followed.

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” Sierelith stammered. “I don’t know anything about you. Just… let go, alright?”

  Alyra released her and took a shaky step back. “Why don’t you let me go? I want to go back to Rothmere!”

  Sierelith rubbed her neck with a grimace. “You can leave anytime. I didn’t tie you up. Didn’t blindfold you. I’m not holding a knife to your throat.”

  Alyra frowned deeply. “You know I’d get lost if I left. You blindfolded me on the way here, and if I walk out of your magic bubble, the undead will find me.”

  Sierelith’s smirk returned. “So do yourself a favor and sit down. My illusion’s good, but scream loud enough and even rotting ears might perk up.”

  Before Alyra could reply, a new voice cut in.

  A voice high-pitched and sharp as a cracked violin string. “Oh, but I’ve been hearing you for quite a while now… and now I’ve found you.”