Atlas had been on Veldur for a full day now. He’d come down off of the mushrooms, but part of him thought he was still hallucinating this entire world even though his body once again felt normal. Maybe I’ve just acclimated to the shrooms.

There was a local shelter designated specifically for lost travelers who didn’t have any money, and it even had a bed that allowed you to stay for free for one night. He somewhat befriended the front desk lady, a nice looking girl, but she seemed disinterested. After listening to a few thoughts, Atlas realized she had someone she was seeing, and it seemed serious.

Atlas was sitting in the room knowing he would need to pay for another night here if he decided to stay. He was thinking, meditating. Even though the mushrooms wore off, he could still hear other peoples’ thoughts, and perceive things around him. True facts about things around him.

And he had an idea.

He ran to the front desk.

“Maria,” Atlas said. “Hi.”

“Hello.” She had a french accent.

“The exchange place. I need to exchange my money for the Veldur currency.”

“Drakka. You can do that just down the street.” She pointed in a direction.

“Okay, thank you. And where is a casino I could go to?”

“You won’t be able to win your way through a casino with any mind tricks. They screen for those.”

Atlas pursed his lips.

“But…” Maria said with a dead glare. “Other worlds don’t screen for that. Many of them don’t even know that Veldur exists.”

“They don’t know that this whole place is even here?”

“You need to remember. Only about twenty-million people know about this place. That’s nothing compared to the billions that are out there.”

“I gotta find a jumper then. Some guy who can take me to a casino and win money, right?”

“If you’re actually a prophet and you aren’t lying, then yes. Money is no problem to a guy like you. You’ll just be quickly banned from most casinos.”

Atlas started rubbing his hands together as if he were trying to warm them up. “Where can I find a jumper?”

Forty-five minutes later, Atlas was standing in front of the large pillars that held up the roof to the Garris Benner Jumper’s Guild.

He walked up the staircase and entered the building. This one had a much smaller lobby than the House of Magnus, but it was equally as cold and shiny. Some of the quartz pillars inside seemed wet with how polished they were. There was no front desk, nobody milling about, nothing. But Atlas could hear voices deeper inside of the building. Voices that sounded like they belonged, unlike Atlas. He felt like he would be asked to leave. Who am I kidding? I’ll be the best thing that has happened to one of these idiots.

Atlas started walking deeper into the building, noticing staircases down into the ground and more statues and intricate decals all over the walls and even in the ceiling. This place was built like a cathedral too.

There was a guy standing on the balcony watching Atlas walking through the first level. The guy seemed young and indifferent, with perhaps a spark of curiosity, like a dog wondering if he should wake up from his nap and chase the squirrel that he just saw.

Atlas kept walking, wondering if he could find the voices that were talking. They seemed to be between two men near the end of the hallway, and again the voices echoed horribly through the entire hallway.

“Hello?” Atlas asked the hall. The voices continued speaking to each other without breaking their conversation.

“Hello?” Atlas said louder. “Anyone?”

“Hey,” a voice came from behind. It was the guy from the balcony. “What? What’s the deal?”

“I’m looking for a jumper to travel with?”

“You won’t find them up here. You’d have to go upstairs to make that request. But what do you need a jumper for?”

“Uh… just some work. I’d need to go to Las Vegas for a few hours and then we can head back here. I gotta find out where my world is, y’know?”

The guy leaned on the balcony. “You’re super lost, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you want to know about Onno the Revolutionist?” Happy asked.

Sable’s gaze was set. She was almost as still as Happy, who was unsettlingly still. “Do you know what is happening with the Merki family in the big wide world?”

“I’m in prison. They keep me in a cell block with only eleven other men, all killers. We don’t receive much information from the outside world.”

“Are you curious about it?”

Happy was quiet for a second, and even with those lifeless black eyes, and no wrinkles in his face to betray emotion or any kind of wordless conveyance, Sable could tell that he was thinking.

Finally, Happy said, “I might be. It depends.”

“You aren’t curious about the world outside?”

“This is as far as my world goes, Miss Sable. This prison is as far as my world goes. The outside world doesn’t matter. Or… it may not matter. It depends on whether or not I ever rejoin it.”

“Well… it matters to me, Happy. And one of the things that I need to know as much as possible about is Onno the Revolutionist.”

“What do I get?”

Sable was wondering when he’d ask this. “There’s not much I can give you, is there?”

“There is something that you can give me.”

Sable was aware that there were people on the other side of the mirror, listening to each word.

“It must be information.”

“Somewhat. Information that could change my entire stay at this prison.”

“This isn’t just ‘prison’. This is the Black Feather. How long has it been since you’ve seen sunlight?”

Happy was still smiling, but not because he wanted to. “You know what?”

“What?” Sable answered reflexively.

“I’ll take a chance. On you.”

Sable knew that he meant something by this, but she didn’t know what. He was getting at something.

Happy went on. “What would you like to know about Onno?”

“You worked with him, didn’t you?”

“I never worked with him, but I did meet him. It was right around the time that we were reaching an apex, so to speak, of our careers. He had his band of friends that he was running around with, meanwhile I was fiddling around with my own lawless version of setting things straight.”

“You killed homeless people.”

“I killed vagrants. And I didn’t kill all of them. I gave the last one a chance, always. Let him or her go free. I took no pleasure in the killings.”

“I feel like I hear that a lot. Taking no pleasure in the killings. I’ll be honest, Happy, I don’t believe you. I really don’t, I’m sorry.” She was shaking her head and telling him this as if it were the coldest, hardest truth she could break to him. “What was Onno’s motive for his revolution?”

Happy thought about that. “You know… that’s an interesting question. I’ve been sitting here wondering why you want information about the revolutionist, Onno. And how he would fit into the world of the Merki. Something happened to the King?”

“The king is dead.”

Happy’s mouth twitched downward, as if he tried to force a frown, and his eyes, black and void as they were, seemed to soften for a second. “Dead?”

“And the Queen?”

There was a long silence, less of sadness and reverence and more of contemplating and percolating. Finally, Happy said, “The princess is on the run, Onno is going to be put into the Watcher’s seat, and you’re a huntswoman hunting the princess to kill her and make sure the Watcher’s seat is clear and ready. But… you haven’t found the princess. Wait… no, you wouldn’t be asking about Onno if that were the case. You’re on the side of the Merki, aren’t you?”

“This is about Onno, not me,” Sable growled.

“Then ask about Onno!” Happy wailed, and his hands raised and rattled his chains. Sable had forgotten that he was even wearing chains.

“Why would Onno be put in the Watcher’s seat?” Sable asked.

Happy cocked his head. “You’re more behind than I thought. He’d be put in the Watcher’s seat to be controlled. You’ll see. The maladurr need a puppet, but one with a spine.”

The door to the interrogation room barged open and two men stomped in. “Guest hours are over.”

“I’m not finished!” Sable said.

“Doesn’t matter. Time for visiting is over.”

Happy started speaking quickly. “Might be hard to find me after this. Onno believes that what he is doing is right, but he doesn’t believe that absolute power will corrupt. And that’s what’ll ruin him!” he had to shout that last word as they hauled him around the corner. Happy yelled one last thing. “HIS NAME IS SHURA!”

A thud was heard in the hallway and no more words were heard from Happy.

“What’s your name? I don’t think we’ve properly met,” the older lady said.

“Sable.”

“You have a lot of questions and observations about the Merkis, don’t you? Why?”

Sable thought about her answer. “I wish I could answer.”

The old lady shook her head, confused.

Sable lifted her hand up and flicked it backward. The card that was in the old lady’s book zipped into Sable’s hand and the old lady gasped. Secretly, the old lady was hoping the Sable would forget about the card and leave it there.

And Sable left the shop.

It was the prison again. The Black Feather. One of the few things you could find underground on Veldur.

Sable knew two of the guards by their first names.

With her clearance as a huntswoman, a huntress, she had access to the higher-level innmates.

Sable was waiting in an interrogation room for twenty minutes before the door opened and he entered first, followed by a large security guard who held the man’s hands behind his back.

His face was simple: Only two eyes represented by black dots, and one smile. No nose, no ears, no hair. And his skin was white and matte, without blemish. He was always smiling, even as he looked at Sable. His black eyes shone.

The guard removed his restraints.

Once free, he dropped his hands to his sides and sat down at the table across from Sable.

“We’ll be right outside.” The guard nodded as he left.

Sable looked to the man across the table from her. She addressed him by his name: “Happy.”

“And you are?” the man asked politely. His voice sounded like slick poison.

“Sable.”

“A pleasure to meet you, though I still don’t know why we’re meeting. And I’ll say now, I don’t like small talk. Ask what you want from me. It saves so much time.”

Sable did have a small-talk conversation she had thought up, but she thought she would catch him off-guard by instead doing exactly what he said.

“The Merki king is dead.”

“Such a shame.” He said this as if he heard that his neighbor’s aggravating dog had died.

“The Queen is dead too.”

“Further shame.”

“And the princess is gone as well.”

“Dead?”

“Last seen alive. Nobody, not even her security detail, knows where she went.”

“She needs better security.”

“I’ll let her know when I find her.”

“You’re tasked with finding her then? A huntsman on the case? That’s how they found me, you know. Is that how you found me here? And knew to question me?” Happy asked.

Sable hesitated at that answer. He had a way of annoying her faster than most people. “Why do you think I’m here?” She asked him.

“If you’re after the princess, you’ll want to know where she would have fled to without her security detail. Is it still Genesis Bennett? Personal guards have a tendency to go missing or be relocated when they’re close to royal family.” He said this as if scolding a naughty child. The tone of voice and delivery pissed her off even more, and he continued: “If you’re looking for her, you need a cage-rattler. And I’m not him.”

Genesis Bennett smiled on the inside as she said to him, “You think I’m here to partner up with you?”

Happy’s entire body didn’t move while he talked. Only his mouth. It was like speaking to a sentient fencepost. “Even if that wasn’t your intention in the beginning, I think it’s wise.”

“I’m here to ask you about Onno the Revolutionist.”

Happy blinked, quiet for the first time.

Sable said, “You’ve worked just down the street from House Merki. How long?”

“I’ve tended this shop for the last fourteen years, I have. But this was my first job, believe it or not. And now I expect it will be my last, and I want it to be my last too. It’s peaceful, and I talk with all sorts of people, usually the quiet type. It’s the quiet types that can sit with their thoughts that do the most reading and thinking. But the sad part about the ones that think so much… they don’t seem to do very much. They just spend their time thinking and not enough doing, do you know what I mean? You seem like a nice girl. You want to know about the House Merki, and their guards, and the comings and goings?”

Sable had an easy time keeping all of the jostled conversations straight. “I don’t need that information, no.” Sable wouldn’t bite at such an obvious setup. “You were asking what I was doing today and yesterday. And I’ve already answered my question, but I had one more for you. Who is the most persistent woman or man who has shown up to stake out House Merki? I know you won’t talk about the actual people inside, but I’m sure you complain frequently about those that come to throw paint at their house, or give them a friendly shooting as they drive by. Or maybe wait outside as reporters, hoping to get the latest word from them. Who is the most annoying of these? The one who shows up the most?”

The old lady spoke right away. “That’s easy; John Beck. Tall man, usually in a black trenchcoat. He’s stopped in here a few times to pick up something for his children. I hear his youngest son is a reader. Not the science fiction kind of reader either; he likes the read science, and even the old calculus textbooks. For fun! Not natural if you ask me. I know you didn’t ask me, and I’m rambling again, but I’ll keep going ‘til you stop me or I run out of breath.”

“By all means, anything about John Beck is helpful then,” Sable said.

“John Beck works for one of the newspapers. Big one. He’s the editor, but for some reason he still chases stories. I guess he loves it. The fight in the dog, right?”

Sable thought she understood and nodded knowingly.

The old lady went on. “John and I had a few conversations. He’d stay outside for a long while until the guards would kick him out. Had a fascination with the House Merki, or something. Some weeks he’d been here all day like it was his job, and maybe it was, but he was here even when the other reporters weren’t here.”

“Why?” Sable asked, and the old lady had to look over her glasses at Sable. Her mouth hung open, but in an active way, not a senile way. The old lady waved her hand when she spoke, and it made the heavier parts of her skin flap with each movement.

“Why? Unhealthy obsession, maybe. And it’s strange, he seemed to really enjoy and speak fondly of his wife and children. Three of them. Two boys and a girl, with the girl right in the middle. I can’t remember their names for the life of mean, but it was John Beck, for certain. I always thought that name sounded famous, and it’s easy to remember too. Beck. Handsome name, and he was a pretty good looking fellow too. I wish I had a picture of him.”

Sable nodded politely. I hope I never grow up to be like this woman.

“Why do you want to know about John Beck?” the older lady said, finally breaking from informative to inquisitive.

“I need to know more about the enemies and friends of the Merki.”

“But why?”

“Things are changing with House Merki.”

The old lady’s face seemed to scoff. “Well, that’s not much of an answer. Weird that you’d be asking about John Beck, a real tick to the Merki for years. You can read his writing in old newspapers. I don’t think John wrote about the King’s death, but I’ll bet he was mighty shocked about it. John Beck always seemed to know when the Merki family was home, even when the others didn’t. They say the Merki have their own portal to the channels in their house! And it isn’t watched by Finlay because they made it themselves! It’s a shame all of the royal Merki are dead now, isn’t it. And here I am rambling again. You probably have places to be, don’t you?”

Sable nodded and said, “I do, but not yet.”

Sable was at the headquarters of the Jumper’s guild in the downtown area of the Watchtower Side. She’d been given a room all to herself instead of being put in the women’s barracks.

Hunstmen like her were not ordinary jumpers.

In her room she had many photos developed and laid out on the bed, along with her own notes.

She was dressed ready to leave, but before she did she pulled out the deck of cards from her waistband and removed one of the cards without looking it at.

“What am I missing?” she asked as she slammed the card down in the center of the bed. The bed made a soft thump and she uncovered the card. It still only read as the nine of diamonds.

“A lot of help you are.”

She looked out her window and read the time on the giant clock on the Watchtower.

She left the guild’s headquarters and walked through Veldur’s stony streets until she arrived at the trolley system. She hopped aboard one of them and rode it for twenty minutes and then hopped off. Another bout of walking before she stopped in front of the Merki’s private villa, a large stone building, one of the tallest on the Watchtower side.

Outside were two men in suits like royal guards. They did not move. The only thing they seemed to do was wear their clothes.

Sable’s eyes were on the Merki House as she entered the bookstore just down the street.

The older lady behind the counter saw her and said to her. “Will you be buying something today, or just reading again? Or should I say, pretending to read while you keep an eye on the house down the street?”

Sable smiled politely and pulled the deck of cards out. “Take a card.”

The old woman lowered her book (a dusty copy of a book covered in brown paper because it was a romance novel) and looked through her narrow reading glasses.

“Is this a magic trick?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not very fond of magic tricks.”

“Everyone likes magic tricks,” Sable said with a disarming smile. “All you have to do is pick a card and memorize it.”

“It’s devilry is what it is,” the old woman said as she drew a card. “It’s the eight of clubs.”

“No, you can’t tell me,” Sable said. “Put it back.”

The old woman did so, and Sable shuffled it in with such dexterity and speed that the old woman gasped and delightedly clapped her hands. Sable smiled. She fanned out the cards again and said, “Pick again, look at the card, don’t tell me what it is, memorize it, and then give it back to me.”

The old woman drew a card, considered it for a moment, and then handed it back.

“You’ve memorized it?”

“Yes.”

Sable shuffled the cards and the old woman was now watching closely. “What are you about to do?”

“Surprise you.”

“Alright.”

“Now,” Sable fanned out the cards again. “These cards tell a story, right?”

“Okay.” The older woman put her hands under her chin.

Sable put three cards face-down on the counter. “The king was upset with his sons.” She flipped over the first card. The king of diamonds. “Because they lost his favorite shovel.”

“How did you know that one was the king?” the old woman pointed at the king.

“Magic. And the king approached his sons about it. The first son, his name was Jack,” Sable flipped the second card. The jack of diamonds. “Said he didn’t know what had happened to it.”

“Hm!” the old woman leaned in, watching the last card closely as if it might turn into a living creature. “Jack.” She pointed at the jack of diamonds.

“And so the king asked his second son, also named Jack,” Sable flipped it over again and there was another jack of diamonds. “If he had seen it.”

The old woman paused looking at the identical jacks. “Well, that’s not magic. You just put two jacks of diamonds into the same deck.”

“Sorry, his name wasn’t Jack… I remember now, it was Ace.”” Sable simply flipped over the second Jack and upon its flip, it landed on its back as an Ace of diamonds.

The old woman backed away from the counter suddenly. “How did you do that?”

“Do you want to know how the story ends?”

“How did you just do that? I swear that that card was just a Jack of diamonds. How did you do that? It turned into an Ace! What happened to the other Jack?”

“I don’t know what Jack you’re talking about,” Sable said, though her eyes smiled.

“Hang it all, yes you do,” the old woman muttered while poking a finger at Sable. “How does the story end?”

“Ace knew where his father’s shovel was. Ace said he put his father’s two shovels, spades that is, inside of your book.”

The woman thought about that answer and said, “My book? With the brown paper cover?”

“Yes.”

The old woman picked up her book and thumbed through it. In one of the pages near the end was a card. She picked it up.

The two of spades. A wide-eyed look from the old woman. “This is my card! How did you do that?”

“Devilry.”

“Bah!” the old woman scolded. “That’s not devilry. I’ve seen devilry, and that wasn’t it. That was just sleight of hand, or whatever they call it. Fancy-pancy trick. What are you here for, anyway? What are you waiting for?”

After another two hours of waiting and sparse talking because Bon Sheppard was not a conversationalist, the men arrived. The ones that Koda Griffin was waiting for.

They were wearing the dark and leathery red jumpsuits of the Jacobson guild. One was an older man, perhaps his later sixties, the other two were much younger.

These jumpers did not drink as they waited, but the older one smoked in their corner booth.

Koda pointed to the jumpers and then looked at Bon Sheppard. “They’re here.”

Bon Sheppard saw them and he heard what Koda had said, but all he did was drink his drink and eye the jumpers.

“Bon, I’ll have to go.”

The Sheppard took a long breath in and out. He took another drink of his drink and said, “You don’t have to go.” He looked up at Koda with wet eyes.

“I do.” Now Koda felt a burning in his heart. A soft burning, not like pain, but like melting.

“I’m staying here,” Bon Sheppard informed Koda. “That’s not my adventure, finding a princess. You’re on some kind of quest now.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you all alone,” Koda said.

Bon Sheppard scoffed and took another drink. His eyes were droopy but wise.

“All you have to keep you company is that tub of cold water.”

Bon Sheppard scoffed again and nodded.

Koda rose from his seat. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”

“When you find the princess, what are you going to do?”

“Protect her.”

“Yeah, yeah, but after that? For how long are you keeping her safe? What’s after that?”

Koda only took a deep breath, clearly thinking about it for the first time.

“Y’know Koda, this town is pretty isolated. If you were to bring her here, she would be safe.”

“I think you’re going to miss me.”

“Of course I’m going to miss you!” Bon Sheppard snapped and even slammed his stein on the counter. A few heads turned to look at the noise and then returned to their conversations.

“I’m going to miss you too, Master Sheppard.” Koda thought about the belt he was given that proved he was a soku master now. It was coiled inside of his bag.

“Go protect the princess. I know you’ll do a fine job of it. You’re very skilled.” Then Bon Sheppard grabbed Koda by the shoulder. “I’ve seen fighters all my life. It’s all I’ve studied. Koda Griffin, you’re the most dangerous man I’ve ever met and it was an honor being your master.”

Koda had never heard such a compliment from his master before and had no words, only a nod and a murmured agreeing sound. He extended a hand and Bon Sheppard shook it, looking his former student in the eye.

“I’ll see you again. I’ll see you soon,” Koda said.

The Sheppard held his beer tightly in one hand. His whole body was frozen as he watched Koda walk to the table of jumpers and speak to them. He revealed payment to the men and they appeared to communicate. A few minutes later they removed the top of the well that was inside the middle of the tavern and the four men counted down and jumped into it.

The Sheppard finished two more beers and then walked his way home in the cold.

Even as he walked he could feel a few tears freezing on the ends of his eyes. It felt as if this were the first and last time he would be walking home feeling this way. Everything felt so heavy and real and wonderous because it was so sad.

As he crossed the clearing to approach his house, he noticed a lump in the snow near the house. From the look of it, it was alive.

Bon Sheppard approached ready to fight. Something was waiting for him and he felt more vulnerable without the Griffin there to help him.

“Alright, what are you?” Bon Sheppard shouted to the lump in the snow. It was the size of a man.

The lump shook off the snow that was on top of it and revealed a dejected and hopeless young wolf.

Bon Sheppard kept his guard raised as he said, “The one that Koda allowed to live. You’re him, aren’t you?”

The young wolf only whimpered in reply.

“Hard to find food all by yourself, hm?” the Bon said loud enough, as if the clear sound would make the wolf understand.

The wolf stood to the side of the house, low to the ground, keep his head low, looking for help. His coat did not shine and his legs looked tired.

The Bon walked to his front door, all while keeping his eye on the wolf. Before the Bon walked inside he muttered to the wolf, “One apprentice leaves, another arrives. God Himself doesn’t want me to be alone.”

Master Sheppard and Master Griffin were sitting inside the tavern which was called The Well. In the center of the room was a covered well that anyone could access, though at the bottom of this well there was no water.

Bon Sheppard had his third stein of beer in his hand while the Griffin had his eighth glass of scotch swirling in a circular glass, and still he only felt a tingle in his fingers and a lightness in his heart, but no drunkenness.

Both men were looking at the well.

“I wonder what happened to the first men who were digging the well,” Koda said and sipped his drink.

Bon Sheppard grunted a single pondering laugh. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

“Do you think he fell into the vek? Or was he on a rope that would have saved him?”

“I dunno.”

The bartender was sloshing a mop on the main floor.

“Mr. Bertie,” Koda addressed the bartender.

The tall Dutch man straightened and rested both hands on the mop. He had a mustache long enough to brush his teeth with. “What?” He said this in a friendly way.

“What’s the story behind the making of the well? We all know it leads to the channels, but what happened when it was made?”

“Oh, they say some of the first Merki made it. Some say they dug right through the mineral deposit and dug their way out of the vek. Others say… others says it was dug from this side.” Bertie had a slight scottish accent when he spoke. “They were digging a regular well and it opened right into an acrylium deposit and the digger fell right into the vek. He landed on some other world and kept jumping until he found Veldur and became a jumper for the guild.”

“The Garris-Benner?” Koda asked.

“There’s no other guild that I’d call ‘THE’ guild. You planning on leaving, Koda Griffin? Or should I say, Master Griffin? I heard you cleared out the wolves near the farmland up north.” Bertie worked the mop for a few swishes.

“He did, the crazy lad,” Bon Sheppard said. “Killed almost three dozen wolves all with his bare hands.” Then Bon Sheppard put a cautioning finger in Koda’s face. “Don’t let it get to your head, being a soku master now.”

“It wasn’t going to.” When Koda said this, he put a pinkie up with his glass.

“Put that pinkie down. This is the Well, not a government building,” the Sheppard muttered.

Koda smiled. He said, “Mr. Bertie, will you be getting any jumpers in here tonight?”

Bertie nodded in between mop movements. “Some of the Jacobson fellows. A decent guild of jumpers. You going somewhere?”

“Veldur.”

“Veldur? Why there?”

“I feel called.”

Bertie didn’t answer that. He just carried his bucket of water to a different part of the building and started pushing it around back there.

Bon Sheppard knew why Koda would keep his answers so vague. He lowered his voice as he said, “You don’t know the channels well enough to get out there on your own, hm? Otherwise you’d be jumping yourself right?”

“I can’t just let others know where I’m going either.”

“The fewer people who know about her, the better.”

There were only a few other patrons in the tavern. All of them were smoking something as they drank. One of them approached Koda and the Sheppard.

“You actually killed those wolves, didn’t you?” he asked. He was younger than Koda.

“Yes.”

“I know you did. I’m a farmhand for the Harlows and sometimes the Almonds. Neither of ‘em have seen any trace of the wolves. No tracks, nothing. A few of the other farmhands went out to the clearing and saw the wolves. I haven’t seen them myself, but I believe them. They counted thirty-one dead wolves. You killed them all, didn’t you?” He was trying to act as though his words were normal, but his tone and the shine in his eyes betrayed his excitement.

“One wolf got away,” Koda said.

“You let him, I bet. Just to let him know who’s the real king of these woods, huh?” the young farmhand was now grinning.

“After what I saw that night, there’s definitely a King of the woods out there, but He isn’t me,” Koda said and took another sip of scotch.

Koda ran and ran, thinking he was probably leading three times the pace of his master and should overtake him in a third of the time. But then he remembered he needed to calculate in the steps that the Bon would have taken during the time it took to catch up to the old man. Koda was amazed at Bon Sheppard’s determined walk and unchanging pace.

What can kill this man? Only himself, I suppose, Koda thought to himself as his feet continued to barge through the snow. The tracks looked fresher and fresher, and he was aware that he was once again approaching the clearing where the wolves had been killed.

Another thirty minutes of travel, but the run was demoted to a brisk walk.

Koda could see the clearing just ahead and let his feet drag more and more. He spotted his master sitting cross-legged with his back to him.

Koda froze, wondering if he could sneak up on Bon Sheppard. He walked forward on his toes now with his eyes bouncing back and forth from where he was stepping and back to the Bon sitting in the snow. There was smoke coming from a pipe in his mouth that Koda couldn’t see.

Koda Griffin’s steps were entirely muffled by the snow. He was now only thirty feet from Bon Sheppard.

At twenty feet the Griffin said loud enough to be heard, “I lived.”

Bon Sheppard was on his feed before Koda finished the two short words.

“Koda!” he said with a wide smile and dropped his pipe in the snow to run to the young man. “You lived! Yes, you lived!” He threw his arms around Koda’s neck and held him close, as a father would to his son.

“I lived, I’m alive, and I’m real.”

Bon broke the hug and looked him in his yellow eyes. “You didn’t return to the house! Are you hurt? I was so worried.” Bon hugged him again and then broke it quickly. Koda noticed that the Bon’s eyes were partly red. From crying? Impossible.

“I thought you didn’t care? I was just a student of yours.”

The Bon had no rebuttal, only a breaking face and he pulled Koda into another hug. He didn’t say any words, because he knew they would come out through a sob.

After a few more seconds he pulled himself together and said, “You’re now recognized as a master of soku according to the ancient rites. This,” and he removed a cloth belt from his own waist, “Is your proof. I, Turagus Sheppard, declare you master of the art of soku.” He handed Koda the cloth and Koda accepted it, keeping it in its coil. It was a deep, dark red.

“Thank you, Bon Sheppard.”

“You are welcome, master Griffin.”

Koda wrapped the belt around his waist and tied it comfortably.

Sheppard looked around. “You killed all of these wolves with your bare hands?”

“I did.”

Sheppard inspected the Griffin. “You’ve no wounds?”

“The wolves would have killed me if the princess of the Merki hadn’t shown up and pulled me out of my sleep. And if it weren’t for the spirit of the Griffin, I would have died from my wounds anyway.”

“Spirit of the Griffin?” Master Sheppard asked.

“Let me show you,” Koda said and walked to a different part of the clearing. He pointed and revealed the large lion’s pawprints in the snow. “No wolf made those.”

Bon Sheppard was speechless with his mouth parted open. He looked around the field at the dead wolves. They still had not decayed, aside from parties of raven scavengers picking them apart.

“I went to the Rutters last night. This morning I helped Matthew Rutter in his barn and then I made my way back. You went looking for me?”

“I didn’t want all that training to go to waste,” Bon Sheppard growled. “I thought the wolves had killed you. I thought maybe the challenge was too great, but Koda, you have unnatural strength. You needed a challenge like this.”

“It was the perfect challenge.”

“You’ve achieved the level of master, Koda. Now what will you do?” Bon Sheppard said without looking at his pupil. He was afraid of Koda’s answer.

“I have to find the princess. I have to protect her. They’ll try to kill her and wipe out the Merki line. She has the next rights to the Watcher’s seat.”

Bon Sheppard grimaced. “There’s nothing left for you to do here. Let’s go to town and I’ll see you off at the Well.”

The Griffin nodded. He was thinking about his new title: Master Griffin.

The entire field between the house and the Griffin was quiet and snowy. Koda walked toward the house wondering how he’d be received. He made it to the house and tried the door. It was locked. The only reason it would be locked is if the Bon left. He only locked it to keep any animals out. Koda reached overhead and picked up the key from the awning.

He unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Bon Sheppard?” Koda said to the empty house. That’s strange.

Koda looked around the house. Footprints, yes. What story did the footprints in the snow tell? They circled the cold bath, and the lid was on top of it. Bon Sheppard had left the house.

Koda looked for any departing footprints. They were hours old.

Koda went inside the house again and removed some of the dried meat from its string in the pantry and put it inside his bag. Then he went around to their rain barrel and smashed through the ice and filled his metal canteen. Then he found a stick and a large patch of snow and wrote into it: I LIVED

Once he screwed the lid back on, he began following the tracks at a brisk jog. Hopefully the Bon was already winded and decided to take a break, but Koda knew his master. Bon didn’t take breaks; slowing down like that is what will kill you faster than a bad fight.

The cold air stung the inside of his lungs and left his mouth heavily. His mouth was watering from the cold. He followed the tracks into the woods, on and on. He made it to one of the roads and considered their direction. The footprints were hard to follow now. He went looking for me, Koda realized. The old Bon has a heart inside of that stony exterior. It made Koda smile and a small tear threatened to form in his eye. He let the air dry it out and kept on jogging. He was now warm from his run.

Another hour of running and he took a break, wiping his brow and eating the dried meat. He sat down and wondered at the woods, heavy and comfortable with snow in all places.

I don’t want to kill anything, Koda thought to himself, more as a realization than a desire. My instincts aren’t bothering me to kill anything!

Usually he’d burn to destroy or to attack, to end something’s life. It was his own fault, with the accident and all, receiving the strength of twenty men and with it, an animal desire for blood.

But now, sitting peacefully, he didn’t feel it. He thought the feeling would return, but it hadn’t even started to creep. Whatever that Griffin did to me, it cured me of more than just my wounds. It cured something that I didn’t think would ever leave me.

Then another thought came to him.

Do I still have my strength?

He stood up and dusted his back and backside of snow. Then he walked up to one of the snowy pines nearby and grabbed a branch with one hand. He yanked it toward him and the lively green branch snapped as if it were dead.

“Hmmm…”

Then Koda ran towards the road and dug into the snow, looking for the biggest stone he could find in the ditch. There were none here.

“Argh.”

He ran further and found one the size of his head. He tossed it up and down in his hand. That still wasn’t enough proof.

He threw it at a tree and it soared as if he’d thrown a baseball and it struck a tree, snapping more branches off, making the whole tree shudder and drop a great deal of snow into a pile at its feet, as if it were offering Koda a gift in return for no further harm.

“Hm,” Koda grunted with a nod. Then he looked for the Bon’s footprints in the snow again and said, “Where are you, old man?”

Onno sat at a park. The time was late now, and his finger stung. The lights of Veldur were just being lit. The park was quiet and a young couple was walking through it, laughing.

Onno watched them with a fresh vision. These were citizens of Veldur, and they would be the people he would be watching, overseeing like a father.

I’ll help them, Onno thought to himself. They won’t know it, but I’ll be helping them.

A wind made the trees move and shimmer in some of the lights from the apartment windows. Life was far more fresh.

A lamplighter was making his way down the street. There was a black cat following him.

Onno’s elbows were on his knees while he sat, observing this lamplighter. His right index finger felt numb; it no longer stung from the cut. That was the first, and last, time he would sign his name in blood.

The lamplighter was lighting the lamps on the edge of the park.

Even him, this lamplighter, I’ll be watching over him, Onno thought and watched the man flip his stick with the flame on the end around and around, all while dexterously moving his own body along the pavement.

Eventually the lamplighter came to the street lamps where Onno was sitting and he stopped his flipping and humming and instead leaned on his stick.

“How are you?” the lamplighter said. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I doubt it. Onno.” And Onno extended his right hand with the bandage on his index finger.

“Grayson. Is your hand okay?”

“It is. Just cut it.”

“You looked pretty deep in thought there,” Grayson said.

“I was. I have a big future ahead of me.”

“I guess so. I can’t argue with that! We all do, right? To some level?”

“To some level,” Onno said through a smile.

“Am I allowed to ask…?” Grayson clenched his lips together.

“About my eye?” Onno chuckled.

Grayson shrugged and almost laughed.

“I was fighting for a good cause and it got hit. Damaged the eye, never was the same. Looks a bit funny too, so instead I keep it covered.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Grayson clicked his tongue. Then he picked up his stick and lit the lamp just above him. “So did something happen recently that told you you’d have a big future ahead of you?”

“Indeed.”

Grayson nodded in understanding. Onno was being as explicit as a nun with his answers, so Grayson picked up his stick again and looked around for his cat. “Not sure where my cat went. But anyway, enjoy your evening and your future. I’m wishing you the best, Onno!”

And Onno was under the impression that Grayson meant it.

Onno watched Grayson move his way down the street, fluidly lighting all of the lamplights in this area and wandering off.

Onno looked down at his hand again and saw the red seeping through the white bandage. All sorts of scripture seemed to be clouding his head at the moment, but he brushed it aside.

I’ve committed to this. They’ll make me the Watcher now, and I’ll finally be one to make a difference.

Then he realized: I’ll be the Watcher. There is no moving up after that. It may all feel like lateral movement. I’ve reached the top!

And finally he stood up quickly and looked up at the sky. What have I done? What have I done to myself?

Onno returned back to Veldur through the Vek, taking a smarter route which avoided the barrygangs. He landed on the Marketplace Side and showed Finlay his passbook. It was stamped with the Greenwich time and date that Veldur kept on all of its clocks.

He started his walk through the city and arrived at the building with the insignia of the firehawk. The Brothers of Ruudem all bore some kind of identification of the firehawk.

He knocked on the door. A small slide opened revealing two human eyes. “Password?”

Onno had been reciting it in his mind for the last few days. He was told not to write it down anywhere.

“Fallen Kingdom.”

And the door was opened.

He entered their building, which was more like an apartment building. It had creaky wooden floorboards underfoot, the elevator still had a man that worked the levers, and there was a man behind the counter and a young man at the door that greeted him.

“Bon Onno?” the young man said.

“That’s me,” Onno confirmed. “I’m here for Shura?”

“Shura is in. He’s in a conference room waiting with the others. Room 353, third floor.”

“How many are there?” Onno asked.

The boy shrugged and smiled.

Onno disliked the smile, though it was polite.

“Alright,” he said, and walked to the elevator. The elevator operator opened the two sliding doors and Onno stepped in. “Third floor please.” Onno felt like he was ordering food at a restaurant. A classy restaurant.

The operator said nothing and moved his hands on the dials with the grace of a machine.

Onno looked closer. It wasn’t a man; it was a genie. One that they had press-ganged into their service.

“Do you speak?” Onno asked.

“Speak only what’s needed, master,” the frail old genie said. Onno looked harder and noticed that no hair grew on this human-looking entity. “Words are powerful here.”

Onno kept his mouth shut as the elevator doors opened; the genie’s comment didn’t scare him, but it did raise his guard. He reminded himself that people with power typically don’t have others’ best interests in mind. Fortunately, Onno knew that whatever power he received would be in others’ best interests. He had no other interests.

Room 353 had a brass nameplate on it that read that very word and number.

Onno turned the knob and pushed his way into the door. He closed the door behind him and looked at the room.

There was a circle of chairs with no table in the middle. Some of the men were in robes. There were no women. Other men were in black, black suits with white ties. Their faces were shaded in such a way that their eyes appeared black as well.

Onno felt a presence in this windowless room. He never once considered to leave.

“Gentlemen,” Onno said as he took the only open seat. He tried to identify Shura, but all of the men appeared the same. Dark and somewhat smoky. The room was a haze.

“The candidate is here,” one of the men growled as if he were part bear and Onno’s gaze darted to the speaker. “Has he agreed to the position?”

“Yes, brother,” a different voice said. This one was slithery and soft. Untrustworthy.

“Has he signed with his own hand?” the first voice almost barked.

“Not yet. That is part of why he is here,” a different voice said. Onno identified this as Shura’s.

“Shura,” Onno spoke with familiarity.

“Quiet!” came the rebuke from nearly all of the things in the room. All became still, as if a wind had just died down.

The first voice growled again: “Onno Turogul, though some call you the Revolutionist. There’s great power in that name. There is power in the names that others give you during your lifetime.”

Onno didn’t dare speak. When he was rebuked last by the room, he felt no shame, only fear. Onno kept his eyes on the speaker who seemed more like a shape. It had hands that were scaly, but also clawed and thick, like a human’s. It held its head high, but in the darkness nothing could be seen, only a flash of red for his eyes.

The voice continued: “You’re to become the newest Watcher of the Worlds, but we cannot act further without your consent. You must agree to our terms before we can begin the process of instilling you as the next Watcher.”

Onno only listened and observed one of the dark figures rise from his seat and present a black leather binder which he opened. There was a small stack of paper inside with writing. Sharp, clean writing in ink. An agreement.

It was handed to him and he accepted it, looking up at the man who was handing it to him. It was no man; the head resembled that of an insect, or a lizard, or an old and conniving man. Of a scorpion.

Onno found no words until that man had seated himself again.

Onno said, “You can assure me the Watcher’s seat and staff?”

“Yes,” the room said as one.

“Well, gentlemen, I don’t have a pen to sign.”

The creature next to him handed him a knife and said, “You won’t be signing with a pen.”

Onno was walking inside of an antique mall, two footfalls per second, looking through each of the small areas where vendors held their things. One glance per small area. One of them just had a collection of needlepoint creations. Another, license plates and old bottles along with a neon sign. Another, books. Several rows of them. Then teacups, kitchen sets, and other various household items, like a condensed estate sale.

The antique mall was quiet, like a library. Sound had a hard time moving through all of the memories.

Onno stopped at one of the small rooms and moved aside several posters inside of frames. It was only the framed posters. “Hm.”

He moved on, only stopping once at a box of records and flipped through it. He found nothing he liked and walked on.

He stopped at a different one where there was an assortment of household items. He saw himself in the reflection of a medium-sized mirror. He walked up to it and inspected it, pulling it off the wall. There was a small, tan price tag with cursive-like writing on it. $150. “These thieves.” He put the mirror on the ground and looked at the back of it.

“Yes. Yes, this will do.” He hauled the mirror, somewhat heavy, to the front of the store.

There was a disinterested or timid overweight young woman behind the counter.

“Just this,” Onno said, showing her the price tag. “Here, I have the cash.” He brought out a wad of twenties and counted out eight of them. “Could you break a twenty in half?”

“Of course,” the young woman said.

She dinged the register open and handed him a ten-dollar bill with Andrew Jackson’s face on it. He thanked her with a smile and a small grunt. He put the ten in his pocket and then laid the mirror on the ground.

The young woman watched him do this and became rather still; she wasn’t sure what to anticipate next.

Onno didn’t have time to pay attention to her. He removed a small leather pouch from his pocket and from that pouch he removed a glass vial of white powder. He uncorked it, no larger than his finger, and started dusting the edges of the mirror.

“Sir?” the young woman said, leaning over the counter. “What’re you doing?”

“I’ll be leaving momentarily,” Onno said, putting the vial back in the pouch and then removing a device the size of a pocketwatch from his coat pocket. He then clicked a small mechanism on the device and brought it close to the mirror with the white dust on it.

“Are those drugs?” the young woman asked in a shaky voice.

“They’re not drugs,” Onno said. “This is white powder and this is a mirror, but these are not drugs.”

“Are you on any drugs?” she asked. Onno noticed she had a slight twang to her voice.

“No, I’m not on any drugs,” Onno smiled. He brought the device close to the mirror and clicked it again, this time turning a dial on it. As he turned the dial, a soft ringing began. It was a clear, beautiful note as if a piano string was struck. The ring became deeper and then deeper until it couldn’t be heard, but at some point during the note’s lifetime, the dust on the mirror jumped.

The young woman, now invested, gasped. “Did you see that?”

Onno clicked the device again and turned the dial again, this time zeroing in on the note that caused the dust to jump on its own.

He did it again, this time making the dust hover for several seconds. He had found the note. He clicked the device again and again and each time he did so, he touched the end of the device with his finger, and hummed the note.

“Sir, I don’t think we allow any kind of witchcraft in this store. I think you should take your mirror—”

Onno jumped and landed on top of the mirror, falling directly through it, shattering the glass and falling straight into the earth as if there were a hold under the mirror.

The young woman screamed and covered her mouth. “HOLY SHIT!” she shouted in the instant after the glass had broken. It spat all the broken glass up and onto the floor of the antique mall.

“Sir?” she asked the broken mirror. “Are you in there?”

A coworker at the antique mall jogged around the corner and stopped to look at the broken mirror with the young woman.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Some guy with an eyepatch just jumped into the mirror and broke it.”

“Did he pay for it?”

“Yeah!”

The coworker shrugged and said, “Well, I guess we throw it away. And don’t swear like that.” He lowered his voice and said, “The older clientele aren’t really that fond of it.”

Onno walked into the room of men, two wearing suits, the others in collared shirts and ties.

Three of the four were sleeping. On chairs that were lined up, on the floor, and one was asleep sitting up.

The fourth, who was only awake because of the vyvanse, rose to his feet and straightened his tie. “It’s about time. We’ve been waiting.”

The one on the chairs jerked his head up and then rubbed his eyes. “Time to work?”

“How are you all?” Onno said as he pulled up a chair to the conference table in the center of the room.

The other two woke up and rose to their feet, straightening themselves. “We’re alright. You took your time though. You should tell us next time when you’ll be a full day late.”

“I had a bad jump and I lost a few hours.”

“How was the funeral?”

Onno picked at his one good eye and then put his hands behind his back. “What do you know about the Sons of Ruudem?”

“Nothing.” “Nothing.” “Dunno.”

“Why, are they a threat? To what we’re trying to do here? We rescheduled the Senate meeting.”

“You shouldn’t have done that. You could do that without me. All we needed were for those two bills to pass.”

“Why can’t we just abolish the entire Senate? Look at how much restructuring we’ve done already.”

“We fought for order, and you want to shred this entire establishment right down to chaos. That’s not why we did what we did. Seriously, none of you know about the Sons of Ruudem?”

“What is so important about this group?” The four men were now somewhat surrounding Onno in a half-circle. “Is this part of why you were late?”

Onno didn’t answer. He put his hands on his hips.

“What is it?” one of the men asked.

Onno said, “I have a chance to claim the watcher’s staff and become the watcher of Veldur.”

The four men tried wrapping their heads around it. “You’re not a Merki.”

“The Merki royalty are dead,” Onno said as he tilted his head to show his reasoning.

“All of them?”

“Some say the princess is still alive,” Onno said. “But if she is otherwise unable to claim the staff, then another is allowed to claim it.”

“And you can?” one of the men said. His hands were also on his hips.

“Not by myself. But I’m being recruited by the Sons of Ruudem.”

“Officially? Who are these people? What about here? What about the hearings, the restructuring of the government? There’s a lot to do?”

Onno put his hands on the shoulders of the men around him and looked at them from his good eye. “You know what to do next. You’re smart enough not to shred this entire government to pieces and rebuild it.”

“We’ll follow you, Onno,” one of the men said, putting his own hand on Onno’s shoulder.

“The people need you here. The worlds need me in the Watchtower.”

“Hold on, Onno said the fourth man. He hadn’t spoken at all until now.

“Yes Arthur?”

Arthur opened his mouth, gave a dramatic pause, and then said, “How do you know the worlds need you in the Watchtower? Who is putting you there?”

“I am. I’ve seen who they’re going to pick if I don’t take the role, and as arrogant as it sounds, I would rather the fate of the worlds in my hand than in theirs.”

“So you’re leaving us?”

“This always was my project, my friends. I’m passing it to you now. And if the watcher position doesn’t work out, then I’ll come back. I’ll take it as a sign that I need to be elsewhere.”

A long pause. Long enough for all five men to consider the consequences.

“So who are the Sons of Ruudem?” one of the friends finally asked.

With Koda’s strength, the beam took less time than Matthew thought.

The large beam was sitting on the ground in-between the cattle stalls. There was a metal bracket on one end that was drilled into it.There were makeshift supports for the haymow just under the lip. The rotted piece of wood was outside, cut into pieces. The rotted wood chips were thrown onto a composting pile while the other pieces that were still good were in a bonfire pit away from the buildings.

“Beam goes up, you’ll hoist with rope and I’ll put it where it needs to go.”

“Just tell me where it needs to go,” Koda said and picked it up, a solid 30 centimeter by 30 centimeter twenty-foot stout beam, with both hands while Matthew said, “Whoa-whoa-whoa.”

Then Matthew saw that the Griffin could manage the weight easily and quickly climbed into the haymow. The support beam was lifted vertically and Matthew scrambled up a ladder to fit it into place in the ceiling. Then he called down and said, “It’s needing to go into that hole in the ground first, and then it will slide into place as long as we move the bracket-end properly, and move the crossbeam, we’ll be okay.” He pointed at the square hole where the previous support had been stationed, and then to the metal at the end of his side..

Koda maneuvered the wood to the middle of the barn where there would be room for the top part to swing about. Then he dropped it into the hole and the top swung close to the roof. It almost hit Matthew, but he anticipated the movement and instead guided it to the spot in the roof where it needed to go.

Koda felt two pairs of eyes on him now. By their feel, he knew it was the daughters.

“Koda!” Matthew called while Koda let go of the wood and looked over at the daughters. Their eyes were wide.

“You’re very strong,” the younger daughter breathed. She was bundled in cold-weather clothes and a scarf that made her look like her coat was swallowing her.

“You’re like Samson,” the oldest said.

Matthew called from the ladder in the haymow again: “Koda, could you lift this crossbeam and put the support on top of the bracket? I need to get down there and shim the new beam in place and attach it to the other crossbeams.”

“Coming up,” Koda said as he smiled at the girls. They were charming. He thought of the princess, and hoped she would say something like that to him.

Koda decided to show off and took a mighty jump, grabbing the lip of the haymow and pulling himself up. The whole loft shivered with the movement and he landed on his feet with a thump. He wiped off his hands and pretended like he didn’t have an audience as he walked to the ladder.

He could see what Matthew was talking about and climbed the ladder.

“Make sure you keep the pressure off of the ladder. If you’re able to, just lift the crossbeam over the bracket edge and put it in and I’ll then nail it in place.”

Koda agreed with a sharp grunt. He put one hand on the crossbeam, and one hand on the bracket, putting all the stress on himself.

“Just don’t crush your fingers,” Matthew said, watching.

“Nope!” Koda said through his tense stance, and was even lifted off of the ladder as he raised the entire beam of the barn into place on the bracket. It slammed into place and the new support moved slightly in its hole.

Matthew was laughing with delight, and when Koda walked down the ladder, he smacked Koda on the shoulder. “That’s far-out! That’s far-out, Koda. That would have taken me an hour or two, several broken fingers, and the Old Man’s broken back to do that. And you did it in less than three minutes with none of those things.”

“Maybe I have a future in farming,” Koda joked.

The girls laughed at that one from the ground.

“Did you see the wolves, Daddy?” Ruth, the youngest, asked.

“We saw the wolves.”

“Were they all dead?”

“They were all dead, little honey,” Matthew said.

“The wolves are dead!” Ruth chortled. “We can get a dog now! We can get a Shep!”

Matthew was speechless. He hadn’t thought that far, but his daughter was right.

Matthew Rutter hadn’t touched the piece on his hip the whole time. He was looking around the edge of the pasture.

“The wolves come down this route each night. They watch my farm, but I’m just one of them. Just one of the farms that the wolves watch. They wait and plan, and they make the rounds. Once the Preachers get hit, lose a few sheep, we know that the Almonds are next, but the Almonds mostly tend orchards. But they have chickens; lots of ‘em. And big dogs too. After the Almonds, you got the Harlows, then the George Smiths, then the Harold Smiths, and finally me, the Rutters. All of us have some kind of livestock, and winter is just rough. Wolves get hungry. Based on the tracks they leave each night, I can tell when they’re about to strike, and I’ll wake up extra early and fire off a few rounds right near this area.”

Rutter pointed to a tree. There was a nick in it, circular. “Bullet.”

Koda nodded. “Looks like it.”

“You know what I’m not seeing this morning?” Rutter asked. Koda just noticed that Matthew wasn’t wearing a glove on his right hand. So he can grab his gun fast, Koda thought.

“Tracks?” Koda mused.

“Tracks.” There was a tone of excitement in Matthew’s voice. “Where’d you say you killed those wolves?”

Matthew and Koda hiked with vigor into the woods, three miles, thirty minutes. They were able to find Koda’s bloodied and wavering trail all the way back to the still clearing. Once they reached the edge, Matthew stopped and pulled his gun out of its holster and looked around at the desolation.

Snow was stamped in a crazed pattern, dead wolves were white against the snow. There were small piles and drifts of powder around the area where wolves had shoved each other and Koda around, or been thrown by Koda.

Matthew’s breath was still coming from his mouth as he caught his breath from the brisk hike. Koda’s breathing was quiet. He was feeling hungry again, even after the recent meal. Matthew put his gun back in its holster and started walking slowly into the clearing, dead wolves in any direction you looked.

Matthew was trying to say something. Koda detected a note of sadness in his voice. No words were able to form from Mr. Rutter’s mouth.

The clearing was still, as if they weren’t even there. As if any movement they made had no effect on the surrounding stillness.

Matthew found a particularly large wolf and crouched to look at its face. “The leader. He has scarring from a slash to his face. I remember seeing him. Almost got him too. Looks like his heart was ripped out.” Matthew indicated to the pile of organs next to the dead animal.

Koda kept his mouth shut.

Matthew stood up straight and looked around. The only sound was the snow under his feet, clear and crisp. He was counting wolves. Finally he said, “I see thirty-one. You killed thirty-one wolves. With no weapon either. Look at their legs; they’re torn completely off.” Matthew’s awe sank in and he took a small step away from Koda.

“You have supernatural strength. That’s not normal, Koda,” Matthew said, eyeing the gun in Koda’s arms.

“Yes.” Koda’s voice was hoarse. “Lifting that beam will be no problem for me.”

“Right, right.” Matthew’s eyes were darting around Koda, but his body moved slowly as it began the walk back to the farm. “Let’s get that finished. The winter is when you work outside of the field.”

As they walked back, at a sober, slower walk, Koda started a conversation: “Just because I’m dangerous doesn’t make me dangerous to everyone.”

Matthew said over his shoulder to Koda, “I feel like I’m keeping a bomb close to my family. I just don’t want to be the fuse.”

“I have it under control, Matthew.”

“I know you do. My dad trusted you; you seem like any other guy, but after seeing that clearing… you’re ten men. You’re an entirely different league. Before you leave, you should ask my dad about the Deathwish.”

Koda sat down with Mr. Rutter at the breakfast table. His entire body was sore and unrested, but still had energy. He felt as though he’d fully drained himself and now was working his way back from nothing. The girls were awake and bustling about their mother quietly. Koda would feel their wonder-filled eyes on him every now and again, but he kept his own yellow eyes on Mr. Rutter.

“There’s a beam in the haymow that’s rotted,” Mr. Rutter said. “I fixed the roof part which had been leaking right into it. Bad seal on the framing which was my fault about seven years ago. I’ve put up supports for the rest of the loft before I took down the beam, and the beam needs to be replaced. I’ve chopped it out and most of the hardware is still good, but I need someone strong to hold it up while I put it in. Wasn’t worth hiring a farmhand for a whole day just for that task. But if I pay you in breakfast it’s worth it to me.”

“That shouldn’t take long,” Koda said as Mrs. Rutter put a cup of black coffee in front of him.

“That coffee’s from Ethiopia,” Mr. Rutter said as he sipped from his own cup.

“Daddy always says that when he has guests,” the youngest said to Koda. “He always says it’s from Ethiopia.”

“And is it from Ethiopia?” Koda asked.

“No, it’s from the General Store in town,” she answered with confidence.

The Old Man cackled from the other room while Koda smiled and said, “It most certainly is from the General Store.” Matthew Rutter was smiling at his daughter and pulled her in for a hug.

Koda was finished eating. Though his stomach was full, he still felt hollow and somehow… he felt good. “It was good to see the sunrise today,” Koda said without thinking.

Mr. and Mrs. Rutter seemed to pause and tensely see what he would say next. Matthew said, “Maybe you saw a different sunrise than the rest of us.”

Koda wasn’t sure what he meant, but nodded anyway and sipped his coffee.

“Let’s take a lap.” Matthew stood up from the table and pulled a belt from the coat hangers. There was a pistol in a holster on this belt. A Smith and Wesson with no luster.

“He means you’re going to walk around the property,” the youngest daughter said through a finger in her mouth. She was licking her fingers after eating a small piece of bratwurst.

“I’ll join you.”

“How are the boots feeling?” Matthew asked. He had given Koda a pair of his own and they were a size too large.

“Roomy,” Koda answered before another sip of coffee.

“Let’s go then,” Matthew said and both men headed toward the door. He stopped at a closet right near the door and opened it. He pulled out a lever-action rifle.

“You got 7 shots, and one in the chamber. It’s a deer rifle, got it?”

Koda accepted it and held it with the barrel facing to the ground.

“Let’s go,” Mr. Rutter said.

They walked out into the still snowy area surrounding the house. The cold surrounded them and Koda could feel his body cling to its heat from inside. They could see the trail of dragged footprints that Koda had left the evening before. They were more staggered than Koda remembered. Now the two men left fresh footprints through the snow.

“I only take the guns now because I saw wolves once, not just their tracks. I always do this sweep each morning now, aside from Sundays. Sundays I know God will protect us. All the same, I like keeping my hand on the heartbeat of what’s happening on this farm.”

“God only protects you on Sundays?” Koda asked.

“He protects us every day. But He called me to be responsible too. I was called to love my wife, and part of that is giving them the feeling of safety. Taking a walk like this each day, and doing something about those wolves… now that’s keeping them safe. Wolves kill any watchdog, and they’ll even break into the barn if they need to.” The snow crunched underfoot and their breaths were clouds.

“Why wouldn’t God protect the barn?” Koda said. “I don’t mean to be the Devil’s advocate, but I am curious.”

“I think it’s about perspective. I used to be angry about it. About the wolves. After they’d kill one of them, I’d have to butcher the cows that day and sell the meat at a much cheaper price. The whole town was eating steak and ground beef for a few months, it seemed like. I only have cold storage enough for one cow, and that’s if nothing else is in there. The wolves have to eat too, and the deer tend to hide or leave in the winter. The way I see it, I was here to provide for the wolves in a way. And that’s because I didn’t take the precautions. Were I a better steward, God would have provided for the wolves elsewhere. It was my lesson in stewardship, at the cost of two cows.”

Koda could only nod.

That seemed to end the conversation and Matthew only spoke again once they came to the furthest part of the pasture.

Koda Griffin, though he closed his eyes and saw wolves, somehow fell asleep in a pitch blackness and slept near the fire. The Old Man kept watch over the young Griffin and puffed on his pipe, thinking as he watched the fire almost extinguish in the fireplace. The Old Man would throw another log on the fire when it needed it and he kept the pipe in his mouth, though he didn’t smoke anything.

The Old Man dozed as he sat, and then slowly opened his eyes as the morning light approached. The wind had stopped and daybreak was quiet and gentle. Koda twitched in his sleep, sometimes muttering unintelligible words. Old Man Rutter thought the young man said, ‘No’ several times. What kind of nightmares is he experiencing now?

The nighttime dragged on and the moment of the morning’s earliest hours seemed as though they shouldn’t exist, or that nobody should be awake to experience them, but the Old Man sat watch at the fireplace while the rest of the house slept quietly, and that put him at east. The Griffin woke up and looked over at the Old Man who was sitting calmly in his chair watching the fire which seemed to be falling asleep as well, only a pile of red embers, as red as Koda’s left arm.

“Good morning, Old Man,” Koda said cheerfully and with a morning voice deeper than he usually spoke.

“Good morning, young man. The Mrs. will be awake making breakfast any moment now. And Matty will be out to the barn soon as well. Usually he’ll see wolf tracks out there on the skirts of the pasture. Maybe not this morning with all the wolves dead.”

Koda rolled his shoulders. He’d slept some of the night in a seated position and felt the cramps. His body was still exhausted, but he couldn’t rest because of the hunger.

“I feel as though I didn’t sleep at all.”

“You twitched and groaned in your sleep,” the Old Man said. His pipe was finally on the table next to him instead of in his mouth. “You didn’t seem very restful. And your eyes, even now they look as heavy as sandbags.”

“I want to sleep. I have a good desire to sleep. My mind and body want to sleep, but my brain won’t allow it.” The Griffin looked down at the scar of the wolf’s bite again and wondered if it was real.

“I’m still alive, Old Man,” Koda said, almost in disbelief. “How am I still alive?”

“Heady feeling, being alive,” the Old Man grunted from his chair. One of the embers in the fire winked out and turned into a stream of smoke, like a locomotive’s smokestack.

There were sounds from the interior of the house. Perhaps the kitchen, since the sound was that of metal clanging to a cooktop.

Mrs. Rutter entered the living room and Koda could feel her eyes glance on him.

“Good morning Koda,” she said. “I hope you didn’t sleep sitting up all night? Surely you slept after your fight with the wolves?”

Koda swallowed and politely said, “After a fight like that, it was hard to sleep.”

Mrs. Rutter held her hands together in front of her. Her hair was pulled into a bun on the back of her head. “You must be hungry.”

“Aye,” Koda said, though he almost never said that. There was something in the light Irish accent in Mrs. Rutter that made him want to say it.

“I have eggs, toast, and bratwurst,” Mrs. Rutter said. “We make the brats ourselves.”

“Eggs and toast would be wonderful,” Koda confirmed, intentionally leaving out the brats.

“No brats? There is no pig in them, only veal.”

“What is veal?”

“Calf meat. Cows.”

“Then yes, please serve brats with my eggs and toast.”

“Would you like fruit preserves on your bread?”

Koda thought about this. “You’re eating from your winter stores, aren’t you?”

“Koda, you’re her guest,” the Old Man growled lovingly from his chair. “Let her serve you.”

Koda smiled. “I’ll work hard this morning.”

“I know you will,” Mrs. Rutter smiled knowingly. Koda thought there may have even been some mischief behind her smile.

“You’re tired, I know,” the Old Man said. “You’d want to get to bed, but when were you on Veldur last? And has it changed at all?”

“I was on Veldur for the funeral of the king,” Koda said. “In my lifetime it doesn’t seem like anything has changed.”

“That stonework, still all holding up?”

“Everything still looks peaceful and… I don’t know. The river is still clear. The people still smile and buy things at the market. The streets are still stone and the lamplighters light many of them at nighttime. They keep electrical devices to a minimum. Frequencies across universes, like for radio and communication, are limited because of the unseen effects, but there are still some of them.” Koda’s voice dropped off. He was trying. to picture Veldur still. “When I was there last, I received my passbook. It’s back with Bon Sheppard.”

“The Nine Seats? Who sits in them?”

Koda raised his shoulders helplessly.

“Mellick?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. You know Mellick too?”

“He seems to get around. You know him then?”

Koda made a dramatic pause to emphasize Mellick’s impression on him. “He’s a strange man. I met him; he seems to meddle in other people’s business.”

“Hm, really?” The Old Man said through his pipe. “I’ve only heard stories. I’ve heard he uses witchcraft to know what he knows. I don’t know what to believe, but I don’t think he’s trustworthy. I was hoping he wouldn’t be on the Veldur seats anymore.”

“What is he, Old Man?”

“I’ve been told he’s a genie out of the bottle, and I’ve been told he was a man once. I think he was a man once, which is better than a genie. A genie wouldn’t care about people. But a man with as much power as he has… I don’t like it… I don’t like it. Even with the rest of the Nine keeping him in check.”

Koda didn’t know how to respond. He was having trouble thinking of original thoughts. The best he could do was perhaps repeat what was just said to him. It was easy to retell the story since it was a series of events, but now discussion was becoming a steeper uphill climb.

“I know you’re tired, but it’s so infrequent I get to meet and talk with another ageless. Matty… he never wanted to leave this world and I bet he would have if I’d moved around a bit. But no, I settled down. My wife didn’t want to travel. She only died a few years ago and I moved in with Matty. In the winter I stay in the big house; in the summer I stay in the back house. We’re almost done building it, but we aren’t in a huge rush. Matty doesn’t let me move anything. ‘Don’t kill yourself early, Old Man. Don’t pick up an ax, old man. Don’t… don’t…” he was smiling and trying to think of another saying. “’Don’t flip that egg in the pan old man. You might break a finger.’ All that. All that.”

Koda was chuckling at the last one while the Old Man smiled.

“Why’d the princess save you?” the Old Man said.

Koda’s mind became more alive. He liked talking about the princess. “I think she knows she can trust me. I swore to protect her because I felt called to. And that’s why I also wanted to become a master of soku.”

“Why’d you need to become a master of soku to protect someone? You can kill a pack of wolves with your bare hands; just go protect her.”

“Well…” Koda knew the Old Man was right. “I suppose the only thing is… if I’m recognized as a master, others would acknowledge it.”

“So what?”

Koda shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. But there are some rooms that I wouldn’t be permitted into unless I was recognized as a master of this martial art.”

“You killed thirty wolves. When was the last time you lost a fight?”

Koda only sighed and looked at the fire.

The Old Man cocked his head as if to restate the question.

Koda said, “It’s been a long time.”

“So you’re a man who can’t lose a fight. Even when you tried to kill yourself with all of those wolves you still couldn’t lose. Sounds like you were given. a gift.”

“What if I don’t even like fighting?” Koda said. “What if I wanted to do something else entirely?”

The Old Man settled into his chair.

“Y’know there was this guy in my platoon. One of the first platoons I was ever in. 38th Battalion; they called my company the Bell Company. Not the baddest motherfuckers around, but we were smart at least. There was a guy in the company, we called him Gutty because that was his last name. And they called me Rutty. Rutty and Gutty. We were paired together on stuff just because of our last names. But Gutty was put on as a medic because he didn’t pass sniper school. His eyes were just a little too flat, but he was a talented medic. He saved probably ten people in the time that I knew him, and he didn’t like being a medic. I asked him one time what he thought about not being a sniper, but at least he was able to save people in another way by being a medic. He said it didn’t matter, he still wanted to be a sniper. Then I said, ‘What if you did become a sniper, a shit sniper, and wound up getting your own guys killed instead of being a world-class medic, (which is what he was. he was a very good medic.) and saving ten lives?’ Would you be glad you were able to do what you wanted? Do you really want to be a sniper more than realizing you’re a great medic? I’d want to have him as a medic over any other medic that I knew.”

The Old Man stopped talking, letting that question sink in.

“How’d he respond to that?”

“He didn’t. But it taught me a lesson. It’s not just what you want to do that determines where you’ll find meaning. So use that skill you have. Who wouldn’t want to be unbeatable in a fight? How are you going to use that skill to make this world a better place? You going to save the princess so that she can then take the Watcher’s staff?”

Koda and the Old Man sat quietly for several minutes.

“I’m going to be here all night; if you’re tired, I suggest you go sleep,” the Old Man said.

Koda stood up and kept the blanket on his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can sleep. I keep seeing wolves and blood.”

The Old Man’s eyebrows jumped and he tiled his head indifferently. “I might keep talking if you’re around.”

“I may not say anything.”

The Old Man laughed and said, “What a symbiotic relationship this will be.”

“I knew him,” the old man said with a distant and smug stare, ond hand cupping the pipe. “He was stubborn, but he was a lover.”

“He’s no lover,” Koda said. “Maybe you knew him when he was, but he’s no lover anymore.”

“Ha! Take the dog out of the fight, but not the fight out of the dog. He’ll always be a lover. Koda, you killed all those wolves? With your bare hands?”

“Everything I said was the truth.” Koda said this with his yellow eyes turned.

“Something else?” the old man said, not thinking it would lead to anything. He brought his pipe over to the fire and tapped it empty. He returned to his seat and started packing it. He looked up from his pipe every few seconds to gauge Koda’s reaction. “Hang on now, Koda, was there something else?”

“Someone saved me from the Auditorium. I didn’t just choose to leave.”

The Old Man sat back in his chair. “Really now? Someone important to you? Someone already dead?”

“The princess of the Merki.”

The fire crackled in the background, but the silence was still as heavy as the smoke from the pipe.

“The princess of the Merki, whose father was killed?”

“And mother.”

“The Merki Queen killed as well?” the Old Man put his hands helplessly on his knees as he sat. “Who killed her?”

“Bon Charles Dorian.”

“I know him. The son of Kristoff Dorian, who I also knew.”

“How did you know them?” Koda’s brow wrinkled. And who have I been giving information to?

The Old Man laughed quietly and leaned in. “I was a jumper for the Guild. The Garris-Benner guild, not one of those small, awful independent guilds. I kept my jumpsuit and gave it to Matty several years ago. That blue color.” He sighed with a smile and lit his pipe. “I used to run messages for the higher-ups, sometimes it was messages to Dorian. The senior Dorian. Long time ago.”

“Charles Dorian is now hunting the princess.”

“The Dorians are mobsters. Why do they want to kill the princess?”

“Because they’re mobsters?”

“Just because they’re mobsters doesn’t mean they’re senseless. They have a reason.”

Koda gave a thoughtful pause and then asked, “Why would they be hunting her?”

“She’d be the last of the Merki royalty, right?” the old man took a puff of smoke from his pipe.

“I think so.”

“The Merki royalty have first rights to the Watchtower by law.”

“Then the princess should be the next Watcher?”

“By blood, it’s her right. But if she’s dead before she can become the Watcher, this will bar her from the power to appoint the next Watcher. And then the power to appoint will allow the Nine Seats of Veldur to choose.”

“The Nine Seats can be trusted.”

The Old Man shrugged. “I don’t trust anyone with that much power to have my best interests in mind.”

“Why would they want that?”

“The Watcher’s power is valuable.”

“But they could just force their hand and take it, couldn’t they? The Nine Seats?” Koda said. “Why is killing the princess so important?”

“If the Nine Seats were to do something like that, the people would notice and they wouldn’t like it. It makes me wonder… how are they spinning the story of the Queen? The royalty dying so quickly must not be great for them. How did the Queen die, by the way?”

Koda said, “She was stabbed.”

“Murdered?”

“I don’t know. With Bon Dorian I imagine it was something like that.”

“Hm.”

“What? You seem suspicious.”

“It seems sloppy. The King’s death was clean. But killing the Queen so quickly afterward just seems… unplanned.”

Nothing was said for several seconds. Koda waited for Old Man Rutter to talk, but Rutter had no intention of continuing the conversation. He just stared at the fire.

Old Man Rutter finally said, “You’re involved in this?”

“I don’t know. I feel called to protect the princess.”

“You’re going against Bon Dorian’s men? The younger Dorian that is.”

“I imagine so, if I’m going to protect the princess.”

Old Man Rutter laughed and shook his head.

“Any advice for me?” Koda said, thinking the Old Man a great resource of information now.

“Advice? You’re about to experience new things. They might kill you. Don’t take it personally. Do what’s right and you’ll die well. Enjoy it. It’s not worth the worry.”

“That could be advice for anything!” Koda said with a slight laugh. The first time he’d laughed since the wolves.

The Old Man shrugged with his eyebrows and then smiled and kept his mouth shut.

“I’ve been training with Bon Sheppard for several years. This happened to me.” Koda held up his left arm. “It’s red from a burn. And that burn… it gave me a different energy.” Koda was careful with his words. Don’t tell them that it sometimes throws you into instinctively dangerous moods and makes you kill things. That doesn’t make you a great guest. “It made me stronger, and I wanted to control it. I was told that Bon Sheppard knew how, and he did. He knew a fighting style called soku and he taught it to me.” I really shouldn’t tell these young girls what actually happened. I’ll just tell them the condensed version. “I wanted to become a master at it, and Bon Sheppard told me I had to go through the Trial of the Wolves in order to become a master. And I did. Now I’m making my way back to Bon Sheppard. That’s how you found me, outside.”

“What? That’s not the whole story. What happened with the wolves?” the smaller daughter said.

Koda smiled and said, “Oh… nothing much.”

Then Koda could feel the eyes of the rest of the family. Old man Rutter, Matthew’s wife, Matthew himself: They all were thinking the same question.

“Do you want me to tell the story then?”

“Go ahead Koda,” Matthew said.

Koda took a deep breath and said the entire story. All the way, even through to the part of the griffin. The Auditorium, and he left out the part of the princess, thinking that the fewer people who knew about her whereabouts would make everyone safer. Hadn’t he read somewhere that the right hand shouldn’t let the left hand know what it was doing?

Koda finally said, “Then your father thought I was a ghost at your front door and pointed a gun at me. He keeps you very safe.”

“Daddy says there are no ghosts in the woods,” the older girl said. Her hand was againest

Koda and Matthew locked eyes. Matthew gave his head the slightest shake.

“There are no ghosts in the woods,” Koda lied.

“What happened to the little wolf?” the younger sister asked.

“He ran off into the woods. He was old enough to take care of himself.”

“So no more wolves are going to try to get Shep if we get him?” the oldest daughter said.

“Shep’s the sheepdog they want,” the Old Man said. “But the wolves just kill any dog that we’ve gotten. Stopped trying a few years ago, but the girls… my, they want a dog.”

“I don’t know if that last wolf would cause any trouble, but…”

“Koda,” Matthew said sternly. “Did you really kill over thirty wolves in those woods?”

Koda nodded. He wasn’t sure if it was a shameful nod or a confident nod. “I did.”

A long pause. The fire crackled. Matthew said, “Girls, it’s time for bed. Keep your promise.”

The youngest said, “Can I see the scar on your tummy?”

“It’s all healed because of the Griffin’s feathers. It’s not much to look at,” Koda said and opened his blanket to show it in the firelight. The scar was jagged and out of place among his sharp and lean muscles.

Old Man Rutter watched them run off and into their bed. Mrs. Rutter rose from her seat and said, “I don’t know if I’ll sleep after hearing that either.”

“You’ll be fine,” Old Man Rutter muttered through his pipe. “I’m gonna sit and talk with this young man a bit.”

Matthew started walking out of the main area. “Don’t keep him up too late, old man. And Koda, don’t let him talk for too long. Fall asleep if you have to. I’m sure you’re tired after something like that. And thanks for the help tomorrow.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Koda said.

“You’re gonna work him to death, aren’t you?” the Old Man said.

“Oh, quiet, he’ll be fine. He’s superhuman, dad, didn’t you hear?” Matthew smiled once and then said, “Goodnight.”

“Thank you Matthew,” Koda said while the Old Man only waved with a smile.

Once he was gone, the Old Man adjusted his seating to be facing Koda. He smiled wide and said, “You. You’re a crazy young man, you know.”

Koda smiled and chuckled. He liked the sound of that.

“I’ve known Bon Sheppard a long time.”

Koda’s yellow eyes darted to meet the Old Man’s. “You did?”