Travel the next day was reasonably smooth. The canopy of trees—mostly pines and spruces, but with a few firs as well—kept the trail relatively free of snow. Occasionally, the wind picked up and blew snow trapped in the upper branches down on them, but by the time it reached the ground, it had spread into flurries that didn’t impede their progress.

  Quilla tried to remain at the back of the group, though Vern—no, Veronique—made that difficult. Any time Quilla started to fall more than a couple feet behind, Veronique soon joined her and urged her to pick up her pace.

  “If you want to ditch the others,” Veronique said on one occasion, “I’m all for it. But not until we’re off the island. We need Jakka’s contacts and support until then. I suppose we could ditch Tarm, but that would be difficult without ditching Jakka as well.”

  Quilla sighed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to run.”

  Vern grinned. “Wasn’t expecting you to. I’m just trying to cheer you up, though I’m serious about ditching the others later, if you want. Come on, it’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

  “I’m not worried about how things will be,” Quilla said. “It’s just the memories.”

  “Fair. Not much I can do about those.”

  “No, there isn’t.”

  “Leave her alone!” Annai, seated on the back of the wagon, called.

  “I can’t!” Veronique called back. “I’m her bodyguard!”

  “You know what I mean!”

  “It’s all right, Annai,” Quilla said. “I’m catching up.”

  She fell behind a few more times after that, but Veronique didn’t say anything, instead just came over beside Quilla and silently stared at her until she caught up again.

  In the mid-afternoon, the wind began to pick up as the trees began to thin, and the trail emerged from the forest along the shoreline. Quilla had to squint a bit now that the sun, unblocked by the trees, shone at its full brightness. Ahead were the hills that Quilla knew too well despite never really getting a good look at them last time. But she’d never needed a good look. The little she’d had had seared itself into her memory. She would never forget it.

  There were still a couple miles to travel along the beach, and it was slower going as the ground was less solid, and the wagon got stuck a couple of times. When they had travelled about a mile, a group of figures emerged from the trees on the nearest hill up ahead.

  Jakka held up a hand for them to stop, then handed the pony’s reins to Tarm. “Be alert.”

  Tarm nodded.

  “Are they the people going to help us?” Annai asked, hopping down from the wagon.

  “Hopefully, your Highness,” Jakka said, not turning to her, but continuing to watch the figures up ahead.

  “Hopefully? What do you mean hopefully?”

  “The people we’re here to see don’t usually walk out in the open like that.” Jakka spun round to face Annai, then bowed low. “But don’t worry your pretty face, your Highness. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. They might just be some Zunsen merchants on their way to Arnor City.”

  “They don’t have any wagons or carts with them,” Annai said.

  “Good point, your Highness.” Jakka then addressed the whole group. “Let them approach us. If you’ve got weapons, don’t draw them. Don’t do anything that could be interpreted as threatening unless they do something first. Let me do the talking.” He walked forward a couple yards in front of the wagon.

  The people on the hill—four of them, it seemed—began to descend, as a fifth figure emerged from the trees, and Quilla’s heart skipped a beat.

  Gods, no! Please no.

  She stumbled, and Veronique grabbed her, while muttering, “Shit.”

  The new figure was taller than any of the others by more than a head, with wide, black wings that made it look even bigger. On its head, glinting in the sunlight, two white horns curved up and forwards.

  Veronique moved in front of Quilla. “Stay behind me, but not far.”

  Spreading its wings, the Volg leapt into the air, flying over its four companions, who were still descending the hill. In only a short time, it reached Quilla’s group. Wind rushed over them as it landed just in front of Jakka, who stumbled back a few steps.

  The pony screamed and yanked at its reins. Tarm tried to hold it only briefly before letting it go. It bolted with the wagon, nearly knocking Annai over.

  The Volg looked about, sniffing as it did so. When its gaze passed Veronique, it paused and sniffed some more. Then its snout pulled back in a grotesque mockery of a smile as it looked past Veronique, directly at Quilla.

  “My lord,” Jakka began, but the Volg shoved him aside and strode directly towards Quilla and Veronique.

  Annai screamed and scrambled out of the way, but Tarm moved to stand beside Veronique, a hand on the axe he carried at his waist.

  “That’s far enough, asshole,” Veronique said. When the Volg didn’t immediately stop, she added, “I said, that’s enough! Back the fuck off!” She raised her fists.

  The Volg stopped barely an inch in front of Veronique, staring down at her.

  Quilla hadn’t seen a Volg since Ninifin, but there they had mostly been in the distance during the fight at the Grand Temple. She had seen more on Scovese, but even there she’d been able to keep her distance from them. Even when they were somewhat close, she was able to handle it because she knew she had Garet. Even if he wasn’t right there at the moment, she knew he wasn’t far. But now, Garet was dead, and this was the closest she had been to a Volg since they’d held her prisoner. With a whimper, she huddled behind Veronique.

  Veronique looked so tiny compared to the Volg. Did she really think her fists would be enough to stop it? She continued to hold them in a fighting stance between her face and the Volg’s.

  The Volg continued to stare down at Veronique and Quilla. There was no telling what the expressions on its bestial face meant, but Quilla got the impression it was confused, like it couldn’t understand why Veronique didn’t just step aside and let it take Quilla.

  Veronique hissed. “Do you even understand me? Back...the...fuck...off, or I’ll rip your horns from your head!”

  The Volg hissed back at her, but then amazingly stepped back. Sounds—guttural grunts, clicks, and yips—emerged from its throat. It was the Volg language. Quilla had heard it enough during her captivity to recognise it, but she could hardly consider them words. She certainly didn’t understand what the sounds meant. Who did it think it was talking to?

  “I suggest you keep your pet on a leash!” Veronique said, though it was unclear who she was speaking to now.

  Shaking, Quilla peered round. She couldn’t get a good view because of the Volg’s huge form, but the other people they’d seen on the hill had arrived.

  “He’s not our pet, Veronique,” one of them said. “He’d probably rip my head off if I tried to treat him as such, like he’ll do to you if you don’t give us the Catalyst.”

  “I think you know that’s not gonna happen, asshole,” Vern said.

  “If I might intercede,” Jakka said, approaching the other four, but keeping his distance from the Volg. “Obviously, word of our journey preceded us, but whatever you were told about us, I’m sure we can come to an accommodation.”

  “Sure,” the same one who had spoken before said. Quilla couldn’t get a good look at him because of the Volg and she didn’t want to lean too far to see around it. “How’s this for an accommodation? You give us the Catalyst and we don’t kill you.”

  Jakka chuckled. “Gorman, you know full well the Catalyst is under the protection of Dyle Aderman, and we are escorting her—”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Shut the fuck up, Jakka,” Gorman said. “Dyle Aderman has no power here.”

  “I beg to differ. If I could speak to Yaluna, she’ll—”

  “Yaluna had a little accident and is unavailable. Now, give us the Catalyst. You have until the count of one. One!”

  The Volg spun around, lunging for Jakka, and Veronique leapt onto the Volg’s back, grabbing at its wings. The Volg roared with rage and tried to shake her off, while Jakka ducked out of the way.

  “The Volg’s mine!” Vern yelled. “Tarm, Jakka, stop the others! Protect the Catalyst at all costs!”

  After that, everything became a bit of a blur. Quilla wanted to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. All she could do was crouch down, which she didn’t really want to do, but her legs did anyway. Tarm wandered into the fray, swinging his axe about, and Vern continued to struggle with the Volg. Quilla caught a couple glances of Jakka, but she couldn’t quite tell what he was doing.

  Somebody ran at her, but a sword swiped across the person’s chest and they went down in a splatter of blood. Annai stood over Quilla, her now bloody sword raised in front of her. “I won’t let them get at you. I promise.”

  Unable to move, Quilla tried to focus on Vern. While she trusted Annai to try, she doubted that kill was anything more than luck. Vern was the only one she could really trust to keep them alive. Tarm too maybe, she supposed, but for whatever reason, her hopes lay far more in Vern.

  Vern currently had one arm wrapped around the Volg’s neck and her legs round its waist. In her other hand, she held part of a wing. She wrenched it back and the Volg screamed as several wing bones snapped.

  The Volg grabbed at the arm around its neck, trying to pull it away, but with her other hand, Vern yanked its ear, tearing it. With another scream, it let go of her, one hand going to its ear.

  Vern let go of its neck and grabbed its horns, one in each hand, but it recovered enough to grab her, pull her off its back, and throw her to the ground. She landed flat on her back.

  Someone came at Annai, who stumbled back into Quilla, nearly falling over her. Whoever it was then slammed into the ground as Tarm ploughed over them, driving his axe into the person’s head.

  A moment later, Jakka came up beside Annai, a dagger in each hand. “You’re doing fine, your Highness.”

  The Volg was the only one left now. Vern was back on her feet, circling it in dance-like motions. Tarm took a position in front of Annai and Jakka.

  The Volg lunged for Vern. She ducked low, but the Volg still managed to grab her arm, yanking her off her feet and dangling her in the air. It then twisted her arm back and threw her aside.

  Tarm rushed forward and Jakka slipped off to the side. The Volg batted Tarm aside, but roared in pain as one of Jakka’s daggers sliced through its wing. It spun round on Jakka, and grabbed him by the throat, but then dropped him a moment later as Tarm’s axe slammed into its back. It spun around again, the axe still stuck in its back. Tarm stumbled and fell onto his back as the Volg loomed over him.

  With a whimper, Annai rushed forward, but the Volg swatted her aside. It did provide Tarm a moment to scramble away though.

  As the Volg turned towards Quilla, she found she had some strength in her legs and rose to her feet. She reached for her dagger. If she died here, it wasn’t going to be cowering on the ground.

  The Volg strode purposefully towards her, but tumbled aside as Vern slammed into its side. Despite her left arm dangling uselessly at her side, she leapt onto the Volg, grabbing one of its horns and somehow managing to wrap her legs around its neck. As it ploughed onto its side on the ground, she pulled back on its horn. “Tarm, Jakka, kill this motherfucker!”

  Tarm grabbed his axe, which had dislodged when the Volg fell. As the Volg tried to pull Vern off it, he swung the axe down into its chest. The Volg yelled and flailed about for a short while longer, but then went still.

  Vern twisted round onto her feet, but kept her grip on the Volg’s horn and kept pulling on it.

  Tarm came over to Quilla. “You okay?”

  Quilla nodded. “Yeah.” Physically, at least, but she wasn’t going to get into other details.

  “Your Highness!” Jakka hurried over to Annai, who was getting up from where she’d fallen, and lent her a hand.

  “Thank you.” Annai brushed snow and blood from her cloak, smearing the blood on it as she did so. She scowled.

  Jakka bowed. “Your Highness, you are a truly beautiful and noble woman.”

  She glared at him.

  He bowed lower and extended his hand. “I assure you, I am not mocking you.”

  She stared at him a moment, but then her expression softened. “Really?”

  “I confess, early on, some of what I said was mockery, but I have come to realise you do not deserve mockery, and I apologise.” He remained bowed, with his hand out. Annai tentatively held out her own hand, and he took it in his, kissing it. “I am honoured to be in your company.”

  Quilla wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t still mocking Annai, but it didn’t matter. Annai probably needed some sort of comfort at the moment. Quilla could certainly use some.

  Vern was still pulling on the Volg’s horn, so Quilla walked over to her. “Are you okay, Vern?”

  “One moment.” Vern adjusted the position of her foot on the Volg’s face, then pulled again. This time, the horn tore free, dragging bits of bone and viscera with it, maybe bits of brain too? Quilla looked away.

  Vern came round in front of her and held out the horn to her. “For your collection.”

  “I don’t have a collection.”

  Vern grinned. “You do now.”

  Quilla tentatively took the horn. It was slick from the blood on it, and still warm. She turned it over in her hands. As disgusted by it as she was, there was a certain joy and pride from holding it, knowing that it was a symbol of her survival. Of course, it would probably feel even better if she’d killed the Volg herself, but that wasn’t really something within her capabilities, so this was the best she could hope for. Maybe she should start a collection. “Thank you, Vern.”

  Vern smiled. “You want to know the best way to thank me? Get a fucking tattoo so I can protect you properly.”

  Quilla looked aside. “Oh. Well…”

  “That would have gone so much more easily if we were properly bonded. Sure, we got through it, but that was only one Volg. And I still got this.” She indicated her left arm, which twitched and moved slightly, but otherwise continued to hang limply.

  “Oh gods, your arm,” Quilla said. “Will you—?”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s just dislocated. Tarm, would you do the honours?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Tarm came up behind Vern and grasped her limp arm in one hand and her shoulder in the other. He took a moment to make small adjustments to his grips. “You ready?”

  Vern nodded. With a quick motion, Tarm popped her arm back into place, and Vern cried out.

  Tarm stepped back, and Vern rubbed her shoulder with her other hand. She moved her injured arm in a small circle and grimaced. “Motherfucker, that hurts!” She clenched her teeth as she lowered the arm again. “I’m a quick healer, so I should be fine in a few days, but until then…” She shrugged, then grimaced again. “So, the tattoo?”

  Quilla sighed. “I…”

  “Just get the fucking tattoo already!”

  “Hey!” Annai called. “Don’t treat her like that, especially after what we’ve just been through.”

  Vern turned around, clenching her good fist and growling. “Gods damn it!” She turned back to Quilla. “You don’t have to believe in it. You just have to have it.”

  Quilla shook her head. “Vern, I’m sorry.”

  Vern spun around again. “Fuck!” She stomped away.

  “Vern!” Quilla called after her.

  “Fuck off! I need a minute or two!”

  Quilla let her go. It wasn’t worth it. Besides, she could barely believe she was feeling bad about not getting the tattoo. But that was a line she wouldn’t cross. While she kind of liked Vern—hell, she’d even started thinking of her as Vern again—she couldn’t let herself forget that Vern—as well as Tarm and Jakka—was a Darker, even if she was one of the not-quite-so-bad ones. Getting a tattoo was letting Darkers win. No, she just had to survive long enough to get away from these three, and get herself and Annai to Quorge.

  Vern didn’t go far—only a short distance down the beach where she paced about angrily—so Quilla went over to Annai, who was standing by herself off to the side. “You okay?”

  Annai nodded. “Sort of. You?”

  “I’ve been better, but I’ll be okay.” Quilla looked about. “Where’s Jakka?”

  “He went to find the wagon,” Annai said.

  “Ah.”

  They stood in silence for a few moments before Annai said, “I killed someone, Quilla.”

  “I know. I saw. Thank you.”

  “I’ve never killed anyone before.”

  “You did what you had to do.”

  “I know. I just…” Annai sniffled. “Sorry. I won’t cry again. I know how much you hate me doing that.”

  Quilla put her arms around her and pulled her close. “Crying’s okay right now.”

  Annai held her tightly back and began to sob.

  Quilla sobbed with her.

  After a short while, their sobs lessened and Quilla said, “We’re going to get through this. I promise.”

  Annai pulled back a little and kissed Quilla on the forehead. “We’ll do it together.”

  Quilla nodded. “Together.”

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