Although there are a few questions, none of them cause me to make any changes to the plan, the first step of which is to meet up with Kalanthia and Raven. Tarra’s questions about which potions we wish to take with us do delay us a little, though, as it turns out that she doesn’t have all the potions I’d like to accompany us in stock. She does have the majority of the ingredients at least, so she and River get going with making those.

  While they do that, I take a moment to go through the bodies and Energy channels of the various Bound who are coming with me, checking that none of them have any hidden issues which might mean they shouldn’t join us. Inspect is very good for highlighting injuries, even small ones, but it’s not always so good at detecting other problems.

  I find that Catch seems to be suffering from some sort of viral infection and it takes me a little bit to work out how to heal him from it. I’d probably have found it easier to do if I still had Lay-on-hands but Flesh-Shaping just doesn’t work the same way. Still, I’m experienced enough with my Skill now that it also doesn’t take me an age to sort it out.

  Much like with poison, it turns out that the best way for me to deal with the viral infection is to boost Catch’s natural defences against it, ease the symptoms of that, and heal the damage caused both by virus and defences. The benefit of this method is that I suspect his body will be stronger against this same virus now where perhaps if I’d just used Flesh-Shaping to take over the cells of the virus and cause them to attack each other – which would have both been possible and another way of dealing with it – wouldn’t have been the result.

  I also discover that Dusty has picked up a parasite from somewhere. Probably from the mating, if its place in her womb is anything to go by. It appears to be feeding on her embryonic eggs – both parasite and eggs probably are the size of a pinhead, but both will grow. She’s obviously alarmed when I tell her, and relieved when I use Flesh-Shaping to force it out.

  On the ground, the parasite is barely visible to the naked eye, only my enhanced vision allowing me to see any detail on it at all. It’s like a wiggly worm, and I know from ‘seeing’ it inside the womb that it had a leech-like mouth that stuck itself to the side of an egg and started sucking.

  Tarra is even more alarmed when she sees it.

  I have never seen one so small, she says, prodding it with a stick to watch it wiggle. But I recognise it from when sisters laid a much-reduced brood of eggs. She prods it again. I shall have to warn the other villages about it, she continues. Looking up, gratitude comes through the link. Thank you.

  “It’s fine,” I reply. “The benefits of having a Flesh-Shaper around. But how does the parasite get inside? Mating?”

  I don’t know, Tarra answers slowly. If it is through mating, then perhaps one of the Warriors has been infested with these parasites.

  “That was my concern,” I agree grimly. “While you finish up here, I’ll check all the Pathwalkers over – see if anyone else has it. If they do, we can see whether any of them have mated with the same Warrior or Warriors.”

  She agrees and turns back to her potions after I check her over. Tarra is free, as is River and Yells. Windy, Joy, Flower, and Sticks, however, all have the same parasite and are all horrified to realise it. Windy, interestingly enough, is even more shaken than the others. I realise why when Joy makes a comment about that explaining her reduced brood the previous year. If she’s already experienced the effects, I’m sure she doesn’t want it happening again. I set them to discussing with Dusty to work out if they have any Warriors in common.

  After checking all the Pathwalkers, I quickly go over the Warriors just in case one of them has picked it up from somewhere. Fortunately, they’re all clear. Finally, I eye the other possible explanation of where the five Pathwalkers picked up the parasite: the mating hut.

  It’s certainly seen a lot of use, and I’m as hesitant to go in as I probably should have been my own bedroom when I was a horny – and untidy – teenager. I went into the hut once when it had just been built, and then not since. Not for lack of trying from the various Warriors around, of course.

  The first proposition happened on the third day when, apparently, public opinion coalesced to decide that I was enough of a Pathwalker to surely be open to mating….

  “Pathwalker Tamer?” a Warrior says coming up from behind me. I warily turn, my hand tightening around my spear and my mind prepared to lash out with magic if necessary. Catch and Poison by my side also turn, their expressions and spikes indicating their readiness to defend me.

  “Yes?” I respond shortly.

  “I was…I am from the yellow tribe of the ninth mountain. I was wondering if you would…like to visit my village’s mating hut with me?” He sounds very unsure and I suddenly wonder just how long he’s been Evolved. I shoot a quelling look at Catch when I see his posture relax and amusement come through the link at him.

  For a moment, I’m lost for words, a shiver going down my spine at the thought. I still have no idea about what samuran genitals are like from the outside and I have no intention of finding out. At the same time, I could cause offence to his village if I reject him as violently as I would like to. Plus, I remember being a teenage boy at school and trying to ask a girl out on a date. I’m getting distinct vibes that this is almost as bad for the Warrior asking.

  “Thank you for your offer,” I start, figuring that that couldn’t go wrong. Except it seems to as the samuran perks up. Stop sniggering in your head, I growl down the Bond at Catch and Poison. Traitors, both of them. “But I’m not female. I’m male.”

  He looks very confused.

  “But you are a Pathwalker? You have clearly proven this.”

  “I am not the same species as you,” I point out.

  “But you are a Pathwalker,” he reemphasises, as if that should be all that matters. I sigh, giving up.

  “I’m sterile,” I say finally figuring that that is the best explanation which he might actually accept. Besides, I definitely am sterile for whatever mating samurans do even if I was interested in trying.

  The Warrior draws back, horror all over his face.

  “My deepest commiserations,” the Warrior tells me, stumbling backwards as if I’ve got something contagious. “May the ancestors have mercy upon you.”

  With that, he turns tail and practically runs away from me. Neither Catch nor Poison try to hide their amusement and I growl at them loudly.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of it all. Despite rumours of my ‘sterility’ going around the festival area, it didn’t stop a few samurans from trying. In fact, some tried to convince me that even if I was sterile, mating was still so pleasurable that I should do it anyway.

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  Nope. No thanks. Not my thing.

  And now, it seems like I’m going into a mating hut anyway, though fortunately not accompanied by anyone.

  Inside, even my relatively-dull nose is filled with a musky scent which my instinct can recognise despite never having smelt it before. I grimace and focus on using Inspect with my desire to find the parasite.

  Nothing shows up, nor does a visual search with the help of Aingeal’s light show any sort of wriggling worms on the earthen floor of the hut. Clearly, if there are parasites here, they’re well-hidden.

  I leave the hut and breathe in the fresh air with relief. Outside, I find that everyone is now ready. The previously-infected Pathwalkers have identified a short list of names of Warriors they all mated with, and the potions are ready. I move over to load them into my Inventory, the best way of carrying supplies which won’t lose their Energy.

  Thank you again for discovering the egg-eater, Tarra tells me earnestly. And it is good that you extracted them alive – like this I will be able to prove to the other villages that we are not mistaken.

  “Good,” I nod to her and then turn to the group waiting for me. “Alright everyone, let’s go win this challenge!” I tell the group and am met with resolve and excitement underscored by more than a little fear. This whole group knows that Tier threes aren’t to be messed with.

  We head out of the campsite and towards where I know Kalanthia has made her base. I figure I’ll check with her first and then Raven after since she’s probably explored more of the area recently than Raven has.

  Just before we reach the curtain of vines which makes up the wall of this clearing, a loud grunt and click cracks through the air.

  “I do hope you’re not planning on accepting aid from any of those People with you, challenger,” I turn to see that Flying-blade hasn’t left yet either. She’s clearly been strategising with her group as well as I see her Pathwalkers clustered around in a circle just behind her.

  “I am, actually,” I say casually in response. “This is my party who are going to help me beat this challenge.”

  The other Pathwalker seems lost for words for a moment. Among her group, I see reactions ranging from confusion to the same glee that spreads across Flying-blade’s spikes when my words register. Only the one Pathwalker I noticed before who seemed to realise what was going on looks like she understands, the dull colour of defeat creeping into her expression.

  “Healer, Speedy, go fetch the judges,” I hear Flying-blade murmur to the Pathwalkers just behind her. The samurans push themselves quickly to their feet and then dash off quickly towards two other campsites, one noticeably faster than the other. I wait patiently with my party around me.

  We could just go, suggests Bastet, clearly not quite so patient.

  “We could,” I agree. “But it would be better to make this clear now. We’re operating within the rules that she agreed to. That’s on her.”

  It might also help to dishearten her, River assesses, her eyes narrowed in disdain as she looks at the other Pathwalker. If she knows that she has opened herself to a challenge where she has to beat practically a whole warband and is only allowed herself to operate alone….

  And it will badly impact her reputation that she was ignorant enough not to realise what Hunt she agreed to, Poison adds. She will have to work extra hard to impress others with whatever she brings back to make up for it, even if she is unlikely to actually win.

  “You don’t think that it will reflect badly on us that we are taking a whole group when she is forced to be alone?” I check with him, hit by a sudden doubt. Not that I’m going to change my mind now, but it would be good to know how our actions will be taken so that we can try to act accordingly.

  No, Poison replies firmly. There may be the odd one who says such things, but a challenge like this is different from a battle between Pathwalkers or between Warriors. There, it is personal strength and skill against personal strength and skill. A Hunt, however, even when between two challengers is about using all possible ways to win: the end is far more important than the means. A challenger who sneaks past a sleeping beast to retrieve a treasure is just as worthy as one who battles the beast to gain it. As long as the rules of the challenge are met, anything goes.

  The minutes go by and I start getting a little impatient. Four days is little enough time as it is and the sun is already past its zenith. We’re wasting time here. While we wait, other samurans gather to once more watch the action – we’re daytime TV here.

  Then the two Pathwalkers appear, the ones who adjudicated the original challenge. They don’t look very pleased to have been called.

  “What is all this about breaking the terms of the Hunt?” Air-shaper asks as soon as she’s in range.

  “Can you not see?” Flying-blade leapt to answer. “The jumped up prey-beast is bringing with it so many of its village! And has admitted that it intends to use their aid to win the challenge! This is against the rules.” Water-caller and Air-shaper exchange glances, exasperation spilling into their spikes.

  “For all around us to witness, Pathwalker Tamer, could you please explain your actions,” Water-caller asks me with the darkening of irritation in her spikes.

  “The rules stated that we are unable to ask for aid from others of the People,” I start, watching the satisfaction grow on my opponent’s face and looking forward to seeing her reaction to my next words, “unless we have a natural ability which entitles us to it. I am merely exercising that exception.”

  “What?” Flying-blade’s expression is replaced with uncertain confusion, especially when neither of the adjudicating Pathwalkers leap in to castigate or refute me. “But…you use the life-devourer, some sort of body-changing ability, and have some influence over the earth. I watched every battle you have had! How can you have some sort of ability to entitle you to aid from others?”

  “Did you not ever question why I’m called Pathwalker Tamer?” I demand, more exasperated than anything else myself. Why would she think that someone was sure to reveal all their cards if they don’t have to? And how come no one has yet enlightened her? “I can use fire, yes, and shape flesh, yes, and shape the earth, yes. But none of those are my key ability. My key ability is more like your beast-tamers than anything else.”

  That sets the samurans around to murmuring. Most of those I can hear enough to decipher seem to be more gleeful over Flying-blade’s misjudgement than critical of me.

  “And just to clarify for everyone, you have…tamed all of those around you? Including the Pathwalkers and Warriors?” Air-shaper asks, disapproval in her expression.

  “I have,” I answer simply. The murmuring gets louder, both curious and uneasy. I have a feeling I know why – as far as I know, the other beast-tamers are only that: tamers of beasts. I don’t know whether any of them were able to do what I’ve done with other samurans. “I beat every single one of the Warriors and Pathwalkers in the village in a ranking challenge when I came, and tamed each of them,” I explain, sensing that they needed a little more information.

  Certainly, the general tone of the murmurings around me improve slightly – as I’ve already experienced, samurans very much believe in might makes right, so the idea that I proved my might first apparently makes the whole situation more palatable to them. Nonetheless, I note a few dark looks from some of the older Pathwalkers around, those with cracks starting to appear in their scales. Unease is still there too; understandably so.

  “Then we find that no rule has been broken. The Hunt continues,” answers Air-shaper without any of that unease found in some of her sisters.

  “If you didn’t want to be disadvantaged,” Water-caller snaps at Flying-blade as she looks as if she’s about to protest, panic and fear both playing through her spikes, “you should have more thoroughly done your research before proposing the Hunt. You had your opportunity to withdraw; now you must either complete the challenge or Shame your village.”

  With that, the two Pathwalkers strode off back to their own campsites. I look around at my Bound.

  “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”

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