I was drowning. Or maybe I was floating? It was impossible to tell. The moment I threw myself into the swirling light I lost all sense of where my body ended and the emptiness began. I didn't really know what I felt because I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My chest was hollow and full. My mind was racing yet completely still.
Knowing that my life would never be the same again didn't help ease the pain, because every time I closed my eyes or what passed for closing my eyes in this endless nothing, I saw Marcus's face. The blood on his hands and the way he looked at me, proud and broken, when he said he believed in me. That word. Believe. What did it even mean anymore? I had believed my life would be normal again. I had believed
I'd sit next to my classmates on graduation day, smiling as I took another step toward achieving my dreams. And even though those dreams seemed ridiculous and hopelessly impossible once the wizards came, I had believed we would survive. That we would escape and live.
I didn't know what I would do. What I could do. What was even the point of doing anything at all? Because what was waiting for me on the other side of this hell? A world
without Marcus, Henry, Laura and Mackenzie. Without everyone who had made Crescent College feel like something close to a home. I had spent my whole life
losing people, and somehow I had convinced myself that this time would be
different. That I had found something permanent.
It felt like I had been in the dark forever, falling and flying, moving closer and closer to a point of uncertainty that made me sick just thinking about it. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know where I had been. All I knew was that I was leaving behind
everything I had ever known, and I couldn't stop it. What was I really? Just a body and a name. Not even a full name. Was I ever really alive? Or just existing and travelling through space, leaving behind my entire past like a coward while I kept sinking and swimming in time forever. Or maybe it lasted no time at all. Maybe I had been falling for centuries, and I just hadn't noticed. Maybe I
would keep falling forever, suspended in this place where pain and numbness had
become the same thing.
I hated the sensation around me. It was weightless and formless. I couldn't tell if I was moving or if the void was moving around me. I wanted to reach out, grab it and crush it with my bare hands. But I loved it too. Because in this place, I didn't have to think. There was no need to remember. I didn't have to feel the weight of Marcus's blood on my hands or the echo of his voice screaming my name. I could let it all go. I felt nothing, the same way I felt everything.
My mind was muddled to the point I couldn't think straight. Every thought I tried to hold onto slipped through my fingers like smoke. I tried reaching for something, anything, to anchor myself, but there was nothing. Just endless falling, endless floating and the endless, suffocating silence.
First, I felt something hard beneath me, and then the heat. I forced my eyes open, and the light hit me instantly. I tried squeezing my eyes shut, but the damage was done. White spots danced behind my eyelids as I rubbed my eyes, groaning. The heat was everywhere now, and my throat felt horribly dry. I forced my eyes open again, squinting against the glare. The sky above me was too bright. A pale, washed-out blue that hurt to look at directly. I turned my head to the side, and the movement sent a dull
throb through my skull.
The ground beneath me was caked and sandy, a deep reddish-brown that reminded me of pictures I had seen of the Grand Canyon. Cracks ran through it in jagged patterns, and the heat radiated up from it in waves. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my arms trembling with the effort.
To my right, Scott was stirring. He groaned, rolling onto his side, and a few feet away, Zoë was doing the same, her eyes fluttering open with her hand pressed against her forehead.
I watched them both, waiting for the relief to hit me. We were alive. That had to count for something.
Scott sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He blinked a few times, then looked around at the endless red landscape stretching in every direction. The
sky was empty. No clouds or even birds. Just that pale, unforgiving blue and an angry orange ball of fire.
"Wasn't it 2AM in the morning just now?" he muttered with great effort.
Zoë pushed herself up too, her hair matted with dust and her face pale. She didn't say anything at first. Just stared at the horizon, brushing off dust from her palms.
I pushed myself to my feet and dusted off my shirt. The red dust clung to everything stubbornly. I slapped at my sleeves a few times, but it didn't do much good.
"Okay," I said, looking around at the endless red landscape stretching in every
direction. "We're definitely not in Maine anymore."
Scott stood up next to me, wincing as he stretched his back. "No kidding. Pretty sure there's no deserts in Maine. Unless that thing took a wrong turn and we ended up in... I don't know, Texas? Utah?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I have no idea where we are."
We both turned to look at Zoë. She was still on the ground, her knees drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. She hadn't moved since she sat up. Her eyes were fixed on some point in the distance, but she wasn't really seeing it. I could tell because I knew that look. It was the same one I had worn when I woke up in the reading room next to Vincent's body.
"Zoë?" I said carefully. "You okay?"
She didn't respond at first. Just sat there, staring at nothing. Then, in a voice so quiet I almost didn't hear it, she asked, "Where's Marcus?"
I opened my mouth too answer, but nothing came out. Scott's head snapped toward me, his eyes wide. "Yeah," he
said, his voice suddenly tight. "Where is he? He was right behind us. He was—"
He stopped. I could see the realization dawning on his face, piece by piece. The color drained from his cheeks. "Darmian," he said, his voice cracking. "Where's Marcus?"
I looked down at my hands. They were still shaking. I shoved them into my pockets, but it didn't help.
"He didn't make it," I said. The words came out flat, emotionless. I was trying my best not to breakdown. "A wizard broke through just as we were about to enter
the portal. Marcus tackled him. He told me to go. He..." I swallowed hard. "He gave me time to escape."
Scott stared at me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Zoë didn't react at all. She just kept staring at that distant point on the horizon, her face completely blank.
"He said he believed in me," I continued, and this time I couldn't keep the emotion
out of my voice. "That was the last thing he said. He believed in me, and I left him there. I ran. I couldn't save him."
"Mackenzie," Scott said quietly. "And Ms. Judge. They went up there to hold them off. What about them?"
I shook my head. "I don't know. I didn't see what happened. But there were so many of them." I looked away. "I don't think..." I didn't finish the sentence. There was no need to.
Scott closed his eyes. His jaw tightened. I could see him fighting to keep himself together and push the grief down into some dark place where he could deal with it later. It was the same thing I was doing. The same thing we were all doing.
The heat made it almost impossible to stay still. Sweat dripped down my back. The sand beneath my feet radiated warmth through the soles of my shoes. If we stayed here any longer, we would definitely cook.
I forced myself to take a breath. "We need to move," I said. "Ms. Judge said we need to contact the agency. That's the priority."
Scott opened his eyes. They were red, but he wasn't crying. Not yet. "Right," he said, his voice rough. "The agency. We just need to contact them, or send a message. Or..." He trailed off, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He stared at the screen for a long moment, then let out a bitter laugh. "Of
course."
"What?" I asked.
"No service."
He held up the phone. "No bars. Nothing. Can't even use Google Maps to figure out where we are."
I pulled out my own phone. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. The signal bar was also empty "Same here," I said.
Zoë finally stirred. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, checking it with the same hollow expression. "No signal," she said. Her voice was flat and emotionless. "We're probably too far from any cell towers." She looked around at
the endless red landscape, her eyes tracking across the skyline. "From the
terrain, I'd say we're somewhere in the southwest. Arizona, maybe, or New Mexico.
But I can't be sure."
I nodded slowly. It was more than I had. At least we had a direction. Sort of. I glanced around, scanning the ground for anything useful, when I saw the orb lying a few feet
away, half buried in the sand. I walked over and picked it up, brushing the grit off its
surface.
The orb was back to its usual dull color. No glow or pulse. Just cold and lifeless. My grip tightened around it. Something hot and sharp rose in my chest as I stared at it. This thing had caused all of this. It brought us here. It led the wizards straight to us. It cost Marcus his life. It had cost everything. I wanted to throw it as far as I could. Smash it
against a rock and watch it shatter into a thousand pieces. I wanted to be rid of it forever.
"Darmian." Zoë's voice cut through my thoughts. "You okay?"
I looked up. She was watching me carefully, her eyes sharp despite her exhausted look. She had seen me gripping the orb like I wanted to crush it.
I forced my fingers to relax and took a breath. "I'm fine," I said. Then, before I could
change my mind, I held the orb out to her. "Here. Hold this."
She looked at it, then at me. Thankfully, she didn't ask why and took it, slipping it into her pocket.
Scott watched the exchange, then said, "Can we try to open it again? Maybe it still has some juice left."
I shook my head.
"Look at it, it's completely dead. It's either out of magic or broken." I paused, then decided to test my theory. "Eclipse."
Nothing. The orb stayed dark and lifeless.
Scott let out a frustrated sigh. "Great. So we're stranded in the middle of nowhere with
no service, no idea where we are, and our only way out is a broken magic orb. This is fine. This is perfectly fine."
"Scott," I said.
"I'm not panicking. I'm just stating facts." He ran a hand through his hair. "We don't
know where we are, the orb isn't working, the heat is absolutely grueling, and for all we know, those wizards are still looking for us. I think I'm allowed to be a little stressed."
"We need to move," I said. "We can't stay here or we'll melt."
"Move where?" Scott asked. "Do you see any landmarks? Any signs of civilization? Because I don't."
He had a point. The landscape stretched in every direction, flat and featureless. But staying still wasn't an option.
"Any direction is better than no direction," I said.
Scott sighed. "Fine. Let me see if I can at least figure out which way is north." He pulled out his phone again and swiped through his apps. "I've got a compass installed."
Zoë raised an eyebrow.
"You have a compass app? Why?"
Scott shrugged. "Long story. Mostly involves a hiking trip with my cousin, a wrong turn, and three hours of walking in circles until we realized we were going the wrong way. I downloaded it after that and just never deleted it."
He opened the app. The compass appeared on the screen, and then it started spinning. The needle whipped around in wild, erratic circles, never settling on any direction. It spun clockwise, then counterclockwise, then stopped abruptly, only to start spinning again.
"Okay," Scott said slowly. "That's not supposed to happen."
"Did you download it from some sketchy website?" Zoë asked.
"No!" Scott said defensively. "It's a normal app. It works fine normally. This is the first time it's doing this." He closed the app and opened it again. The needle just kept spinning.
"Maybe there's something wrong with your phone," I offered.
Scott shook his head. "The compass works with the phone's internal sensors. If the sensors are broken, the phone itself would have issues. But everything else is working fine. It's just the compass."
We all stared at the spinning needle, trying to make sense of it. I was about to say something when all three of us stopped at the same time.
Voices. Faint, but unmistakable. Coming from somewhere in the distance, too far away for any human to hear. I turned my head, straining my ears . The sound was coming from the east. Or what I thought was the east. With the compass spinning like that, I couldn't be sure.
Scott and Zoë had turned too, their eyes locked on the same direction. The voices were getting louder and louder.
"Friends or enemies?" Scott asked.
I didn't have an answer. "Let's find out."
We all stood still, our eyes fixed on the same point in the distance. The voices were getting louder and closer, carried across the flat expanse by the hot, dry air. I couldn't
make out any words yet, but the tone was unmistakable. Laughter.
At first they were just specks on the horizon, but they grew larger with every passing second, eventually resolving into four distinct figures on horseback. The horses were sturdy, thick-legged animals with broad chests and dust-caked coats, their manes tangled and wild. They moved with a steady, ground-eating gait that spoke of long journeys and hard miles.
Heavy gear was strapped to their horses. Worn leather saddles, bedrolls tied behind with rope, and bulging saddlebags that clinked and jostled as they rode. One of the horses had a long, thin blade strapped to its flank. Another carried a crossbow of strange design, its stock carved from a dark wood and the limbs reinforced with what looked
like a bone. A third horse had a contraption hanging from its saddle; a cylindrical device with a crank on the side and a series of small, intricate gears visible through a glass panel.
The riders themselves were something else entirely. They were dressed in heavy cotton tunics, muted browns and grey fabrics that were stained with sweat and dust. Cinched at the waist were wide leather belts that held an alarming number of pouches and knives. Their trousers were tucked into tall boots that reached almost to their knees, the leather scuffed and cracked most likely from years of use. Some wore
vests that looked like they'd been patched and repaired a dozen times, stitched
with thick threads that stood out against the faded fabric. Others had hooded cloaks that flapped behind them in the wind, the edges frayed and worn.
Their hats were wide-brimmed, made of thick leather that had gone dark with age and use. One of them had a scarf wrapped around his face that billowed in the wind, its ends fluttering like a banner. Another wore a high collar that made his silhouette look almost like a soldier from an old painting.
They carried weapons openly too. Swords hung from their belts, their hilts wrapped in worn leather, but it wasn't just the blades that caught my attention. One of them had a long, thin rod strapped across his back with intricate symbols etched on the surface that
seemed to shift when I looked at them directly. Another carried a device that
looked like a cross between an axe and something else entirely. A third had a heavy mace hanging from his saddle, but its head wasn't spiked; it was smooth and polished, with a single, large gemstone set into the center that caught the sunlight and scattered it in all directions.
They had an air of rough practicality about them , laughing loudly and coarsely as they rode. One of them was gesturing wildly with his hands, telling a story that seemed to amuse the others immensely. The leader of the group was a broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and a scar across his cheek,
and he was laughing so hard he had to wipe his eyes.
I called out to them before I could think better of it.
"Hey! Over here!"
They saw us immediately and the laughter stopped. The leader's hand went to his belt, not quite reaching for a weapon, but clearly ready to. For a moment, I thought they might
ride past us and ignore us entirely. But then the leader said something to his
companions, and they changed direction, heading straight toward us.
I stepped forward, putting myself between Scott and Zoë. "Don't mention anything important," I said quietly. "We don't know who they are, or if they're wizards, so be ready for anything."
Scott nodded, his jaw tight. Zoë said nothing, but I could feel her presence behind me, tense and alert.
The riders pulled up a few feet away, their horses stamping and snorting, clouds of dust rising from their hooves. They formed a loose half-circle around us, eyes scanning us with open curiosity.
The leader looked me up and down thoroughly. His eyes lingered on my clothes and shoes. Then he looked at Scott, then Zoë, and a slow grin began to spread across his face.
"Well," he said, his voice rough and amused. "Where did you get those clothes, boys? And what in the world is she wearing? Looks like she got stuck in a pipe and had to cut her way out."
The other three riders burst out laughing. One of them slapped his knee while another pointed at Zoë's jeans and shook his head.
"Geoffrey, leave the children alone," one of them said, still chuckling. "Can't you
see they're lost? Look at them. They've got no horses, no water, no nothing. Probably haven't eaten in days."
Scott's face flushed. "We're not children," he said.
The rider who had called us children raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then what are you? And what are you doing in the middle of the Sanguine Expanse? This isn't exactly a place for a casual stroll."
My stomach dropped. I had never heard that name before. Neither had Scott or Zoë, judging by the blank looks on their faces.
"I'm sorry," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "We're travelers. We were riding, but then we got robbed. Thieves took our horses, our supplies, everything. We've been walking for... I don't know how long. We're lost."
One of the riders snorted, saying, "Well I can see why they didn't take your clothes. Shit looks hideous, heck I wouldn't even take it for free."
The rest burst into laughter while Geoffrey rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Robbers," he said slowly. "Out here in the middle of the Sanguine Expanse? They must be either really brave or really stupid to pull something like that this far east." He glanced at his companions. "Sounds like Blakeley's men to me. "
East. He said east, not west or even southwest. East. If we were in the southwest, like Zoë had suggested, then east would be... what? Texas? Oklahoma? But the landscape didn't look like either of those. It looked like something else entirely.
"We probably did," I said quickly. "Run into Blakeley's men, I mean. They were... they were heavily armed."
Geoffrey nodded slowly. "Sounds like them. Not too surprised they're causing trouble now along the eastern trade routes. The Wardens are supposed to be dealing with them, but you know how that goes. Lazy bastards couldn't be bothered doing actual work."
I had no idea what he was talking about. Wardens? Trade routes? None of it made much sense but I nodded along anyway, hoping I looked like I understood.
"We were wondering if you could help us out," I said. "If you could give us a ride to
the nearest town, we'd be grateful. We don't have much, but we can pay you back…somehow."
Geoffrey and his companions exchanged glances.
"Lucky for you," Geoffrey said slowly, "we're traders. We do business all over
this region. And as it happens, we're heading to Drybrook for a sale. It's not
far from here. A few hours, maybe."
I felt a surge of relief. "That would be perfect. Thank you."
Geoffrey grinned. "Don't thank me yet, boy. The roads are dangerous. And we don't do charity. You'll have to earn your keep."
"Whatever you need," I said again.
Geoffrey nodded, then gestured to his companions. "This old geezer is Witkop," he said, pointing to the thin man with the eye patch. "The finest tracker in the Expanse. Could find a grain of sand in a storm."
Witkop tipped his hat, a wry smile on his lips. "Only if the storm isn't too loud."
Geoffrey laughed. "And this is Norkett," he continued, indicating a broad-shouldered
man with a missing tooth and a friendly grin. "The finest valuer ever to be born of a woman. He can look at a piece of junk and tell you what it's worth, who made it, and where it's been for the last fifty years."
Norkett chuckled deeply. "He's exaggerating. But only a little."
"And this is Oslo," Geoffrey continued, nodding toward the youngest of the group, a wiry man with sharp eyes and a quiet demeanor. "He doesn't talk much. But when
he does, it's usually worth listening to."
Oslo just nodded, his eyes scanning each of us.
"And lastly," he concluded, taking a short bow, "I'm Geoffrey. Always on the lookout for a good adventure, and a couple of gold."
I took a breath and stepped forward. "I'm Darmian. This is Scott, and this is Zoë." I
gestured to each of them in turn. "Like I said before, we're... we're travelers from far away. We're just trying to get our bearings."
Geoffrey studied me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Far away, eh? Well, you're a long way from home, Darmian. The Sanguine Expanse isn't kind to
strangers."
"We've noticed," Scott muttered.
"Say," Oslo said, looking at me directly. "If y'all say you're travelers then where exactly were y'all heading to before y'all got robbed?"
The other riders and Geoffrey looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. "Uh…we were going to… the town… after
Drybrook," I said nervously.
"Varesh?" Norkett asked.
"Yep, that's it," I said.
Geoffrey chuckled. "Alright, then. We'll take you to Drybrook. But you'll have to ride
double. And you'll have to keep up. We don't slow down for stragglers."
I nodded. "We won't slow you down."
"Good."
Geoffrey gestured to his horse. "Saddle up, then. We've got lots of ground to cover."
I looked at Scott and Zoë. Scott shrugged, already moving toward one of the horses. Zoë followed, her eyes searching mine carefully. I took a deep breath and
climbed up behind Witkop, gripping the saddle as the horse shifted beneath me.
The ride to Drybrook was smooth and surprisingly comfortable. Aside from the thrill of traveling on horseback, our companions were a cheerful bunch whose stories eased our nerves and helped us relax. As the journey wore on, however, their conversations took a strange turn. Geoffrey and the others began talking about places I'd never heard of, mentioning names that meant nothing to me, and recounting events that seemed to defy all logic.
"Have you ever been to the Regio Luxis?" Witkop asked, his eye patch catching the harsh sunlight. "I spent three months there once, completing an errand for the Wardens. Worst place I've ever been. The ground is so hot it'll melt the soles right off your boots."
"Worse than the Nivora Basin?" Norkett asked, grinning. "I remember that time we nearly got eaten by a werewolf. You were ready to leave your own loot behind."
"That werewolf was twice the size of my horse," Witkop shot back. "And it had teeth like daggers. Besides, you were running too."
"I ran because you were already running," Norkett said. "Figured you knew something I
didn't."
Oslo laughed quietly, a rare sound. Geoffrey just shook his head, a fond smile on his face.
I listened to them talk, my mind racing. Regio Lexus, Nivora Basin, werewolves. None of it made any sense. It didn't match anything I had ever heard of.
"Where exactly are we?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. "You called it the
Sanguine Expanse right?"
Geoffrey glanced back at me. "Yes, that's correct. You must be from very far away indeed if you've never heard of it."
"We're from very far away," I said carefully. "Yes."
"Where exactly?" Witkop asked, his one eye narrowing with curiosity. "Must be an interesting place."
I hesitated. "We're from... the coast. A small town. You wouldn't have heard of it."
"Ah I see," Witkop said. "Never been a big fan of the coastal cities anyways."
I seized the opportunity to change the subject. "So, what's Drybrook like? I've never been there."
Geoffrey's face lit up. "Drybrook? Ah, it's a fine town. One of the best trading posts in this region. You'll find almost everything there: food, supplies, weapons, information. The market is always busy too, and the taverns are second to none."
"The brothels are second to none as well," Norkett chimed in, drawing laughter from the other riders. We exchanged awkward glances before forcing ourselves to laugh along.
"Sounds nice," Scott said from behind Norkett. "What's the technology like there? Do they have... cars?"
Geoffrey looked at him blankly. "Cars?"
"You know," Scott said, gesturing vaguely. "Automobiles. Motorized vehicles. Things
that move without horses?"
Geoffrey stared at him for a long moment. Then he laughed. "You mean like wagons? Of course they have them. But they're pulled by horses, not... whatever you just said."
Scott's face went pale. "Right. Horses, of course. Well what about airplanes?"
The riders looked at each other in confusion. "I mean machines that fly," Scott said.
"Flying machines?" Oslo repeated, his brow furrowed. "Why would anyone want
to fly? The ground is perfectly fine."
Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. "Never mind."
"And what about the internet?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Do you have... you know, communication networks? Things that let you talk to people far away?"
Geoffrey's expression shifted from confusion to amusement. "You mean messengers? We use those all the time actually. And signal fires, if it's urgent. But I've never heard of an 'inter-net.' Is that some kind of fishing net you use in your town?"
I felt my heart sink. "Forget about it," I said quietly. "It's not important."
But it was important. In fact it was very, very important, because everything they were saying confirmed what I had been dreading since we landed in this strange, red landscape. We weren't in Maine anymore. And the worst part was, I didn't think we were even in the same world. The thought clawed at the back of my mind for the rest of
the ride. I tried to push it away to focus on the conversation, but it was always there, gnawing at me.
Something was very, very wrong.
***************
We reached Drybrook about three hours later and it was nothing like anything I had ever seen before.
The walls were the first thing I noticed. They were massive, rising at least thirty feet into the air, topped with battlements and watchtowers that bristled with strange devices. The gate itself was a huge iron portcullis with bars reinforced with what looked like copper wiring that hummed faintly with energy.
Inside the walls, the town was a chaotic jumble of buildings that seemed to have grown organically over time. Some were made of wood and stone, their roofs thatched with straw or covered in dark shingles. Others were built of a pale, smooth material etched with intricate patterns that caught the light. A few structures rose several stories high, the upper floors supported by wooden beams that jutted out over the streets below.
The streets themselves were narrow and winding, paved with worn cobblestones that glowed faintly in the shadow. Strange lanterns hung from iron brackets on the walls, filled with a soft, blue light that pulsed rhythmically. I could see people moving through the streets, and the air was thick with the constant hum of activity. Shouts and laughter, the clang of metal, the creak of wheels, the distant thrum of something
mechanical.
"Welcome to Drybrook," Geoffrey said, his voice proud. "Some call it the jewel of the Sanguine Expanse."
"It's... something," I managed.
Scott and Zoë's expression were unreadable, but I could see the tension in their shoulders.
Geoffrey and his companions led us to the gate, where a pair of guards in dark leather armor stood watch, directing traffic into the town. They nodded at Geoffrey, and the
portcullis groaned upward, revealing the town beyond.
"We'll drop you off here," Geoffrey said, reining in his horse. "The market is straight
ahead. You'll find everything you need there."
He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a small leather pouch. He tossed it to me, and I caught it on reflex. It clinked.
"Some gold coins," he said. "Not much, but it'll get you started. Get some food, find a place to stay. You'll need it if you're going
to make it to Varesh."
I stared at the pouch, then at Geoffrey. "I don't know what to say."
"Say thank you," Geoffrey said, grinning. "And try to stay out of trouble."
"We will," I said. "Thanks for everything."
Geoffrey nodded. "Good luck, Darmian. You too, Scott and Zoë. I hope you find whatever you're looking for."
He nudged his horse, and the four riders turned and rode away, their laughter echoing behind them.
I stood there, the pouch of gold coins heavy in my hand, watching them disappear into the distance.
"Okay," Scott said slowly. "Forget about not being in Maine anymore. I don't think we're in the 21st century."
Zoë nodded. "This isn't just a different place. It's feels like different time entirely."
"Or a different world," I said quietly.
They both looked at me.
"What do you mean?" Zoë asked.
I shook my head. "I don't know yet. But something is wrong here."
We stood in silence for a long moment, the sounds of Drybrook washing over us.
"Well, we need more information," Zoë said finally. "We need to figure out where we are and how we're going to get back."
"I agree," I said. "But we can't just walk around asking questions. We'll draw too much attention."
"Then we split up," Scott said. "Zoë and I will check out the market and see what we
can learn. You try the tavern. People talk more when they're drinking."
I nodded slowly. "Good idea. Meet back here in two hours?"
"Two hours," Zoë agreed.
Scott and Zoë headed into the town, their figures quickly swallowed by the crowd. I watched them go, then turned toward the building closest to the gates.
It was a low, sprawling structure made of dark wood and rough stone, with a faded sign hanging above the door. The sign showed a pair of crossed swords and a tankard, with the words "Pour Decisions" painted beneath it in uneven letters.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The tavern was warm and
alive with the kind of energy that came from too many people packed into too small a
space. The low ceiling was blackened with years of smoke from the massive
fireplace at the far end, where a spit of meat turned slowly over the flames. The walls were lined with shelves holding mismatched bottles and dusty glasses, and the floor was sticky with spilled ale and tracked-in dirt.
People filled every corner. Some sat at tables with their heads bent together in hushed conversation. Others stood at the bar, shouting orders over the noise. A group
of men in the corner were playing cards, laughing as they placed bets, and a woman with dark hair and a sharp smile was singing somewhere near the back, her voice cutting through the chaos.
I walked inside, and the noise didn't stop, but I could feel the eyes. A few of them, at least. The ones closest to the door turned to look at me, their gazes lingering as I walked
forward. I kept my cool, forcing myself to move with purpose, to act like I
belonged here even though every instinct was screaming at me to walk right back out.
I made my way to the bar since most of the tables were occupied, and I didn't want to draw more attention by hovering awkwardly in the middle of the room. I spotted a stool at the far end of the counter, next to a man who looked like he'd been there for hours. His clothes were worn but clean and his face was lined with years of sun and wind. He had a half-empty glass in front of him, and he was staring at me
with open curiosity.
I sat down and tried to look natural.
"Water," I said to the bartender, a thick-shouldered man with a graying beard and arms like tree trunks. "Just water, please."
The man next to me laughed. It was a rough, gravelly sound, like stones grinding together. "Water?" he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You come into a place like
this and ask for water? What, you still living with your mama?"
I forced a nervous chuckle. "Something like that."
The man leaned back, grinning. "Riley my good man," he called to the bartender. "Get this boy a glass of pristine Serpent whiskey. On my tab."
Riley didn't even look up. "You still owe me for the last time, K. I'm not putting anything else on your tab until you pay what you already owe."
K let out a theatrical groan, leaning back. "You wound me, Riley. I'm a man of my word."
"You're a man of empty promises and even emptier pockets," Riley shot back. He set a glass of water in front of me. "Here. On the house. You look like you need it."
I accepted the glass gratefully. "Thanks."
Riley waved a hand. "It's just water. And you're clearly not from around here. Consider it a welcome."
I nodded, taking a sip. The water was cool and clean, and it felt good going down.
K was still watching me, his eyes sharp despite his relaxed posture. He extended a hand. "K," he said. "Just K."
I took his hand. "Darmian."
"Darmian," he repeated, rolling the name around like he was tasting it. "That's an unusual name. Where are you from, Darmian? I've traveled all over the world, and I've never seen clothes like yours."
I hesitated, then decided to stick with the story I had already started. "A distant town. You wouldn't have heard of it. I was sent to deliver news to someone in Varesh, but
I got robbed on the way. Lost my horse, my supplies, my map. Everything."
K's eyes lit up. "A map, you say?"
I paused for a moment. I'd mentioned the map without thinking, but his reaction gave me an idea. If I could get one, we'd finally know where we were, and planning our next move would be a lot easier. "Yeah, had one before but it got stolen.
K grinned, a slow, calculating smile. "Funny thing. I happen to have a map on me right now. A good one, too. Covers the entire region."
I kept my face neutral, but my heart quickened. "Can I see it?"
K leaned back, rubbing his chin. "Come on now, do I look like a person who gives things for free?"
No he did not. "Would you be willing to sell it then?"
"Sell it?" K laughed. "What would I do with a few coins? I'd just spend them on drinks, and then I'd be right back where I started." He leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "No. I
have a better idea. Let's make it interesting."
I raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"
"A drinking challenge," K said. "Tell you what, you win, the map is yours. I'll even throw in a meal and a room for the night. But if I win…" He gestured to the bulge in my pocket. "Those coins are mine."
Riley overheard and shook his head. "Don't do it, boy. K's a drifter. Flat-out broke most of the time. He picks on out-of-towners because he knows his naïve they can be."
"I can handle myself," I said, maybe a little too quickly.
Riley gave me a long look. "Suit yourself. But don't say I didn't warn you."
K was already signaling to Riley. "Two glasses of Serpent whiskey," he called. "And don't water it down this time."
"I don't water anything down," Riley grumbled, but he reached for two glasses anyway.
I watched him pour, my mind racing. A drinking challenge against a human. With my metabolism, I couldn't get drunk no matter how much I drank. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.
K slid one of the glasses toward me. "So, you up for it?"
I reached for the glass. "I'm up for it."
K's grin widened. "That's the spirit. First person to pass out loses."
But just as I lifted the glass to my lips, the doors to the tavern swung open, and the noise died. Not gradually. It was instant. One moment the tavern was alive with laughter and shouting and the clink of glasses. The next, it was silent. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the faint creak of the floorboards as a woman
stepped inside.
She stood in the doorway for a moment, letting the silence settle around her. She was tall and lean, with dark skin and sharp features. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, revealing high cheekbones and eyes the color of burnt amber. She wore a long
coat of dark leather, belted at the waist, with a high collar that framed her face. A bow was slung across her back, and a quiver of arrows slung on her shoulders. Simple weapons, nothing special, but from the way everyone had gone silent, she was clearly someone important.
She let the moment stretch, then she grinned. "Don't let me stop you boys," she said, her voice carrying easily across the room. "Drink. Laugh. Gossip. I'm just here for a pint."
The tension broke, and the men cheered, raising their glasses in her direction. Several of them jumped up, offering her chairs and tables, their voices overlapping as they tried to get her attention. She waved them away, her grin never fading, and walked toward the bar instead.
She sat down on the stool next to K, on the other side from me. K's face lit up like a child during recess.
"Val!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with theatrical longing. "You've finally returned! I knew you couldn't stay away from me. Tell me, is this the moment you confess your undying love for me? Because I've been waiting—"
She cut him off with a flat, unimpressed look that could have frozen a fire. "Hey Riley," she said. "Hit me with something strong."
Riley grunted, reaching for a bottle. "You look like hell, Val. When did you get back from the summit?"
She took the bottle and poured herself a glass of something green that shimmered faintly in the firelight. "An hour ago. Maybe two."
She knocked back the drink in one go, wincing as she swallowed. Her eyes watered slightly, but she didn't cough. She simply set the glass down and poured another.
Val turned to K, taking another sip. "You know, you still owe me a proper tracker. That last one you sold me was a fake."
"You wound me," K said, clutching his chest. "I'm a man of honor, Val. I would never sell a fake tracker. That was my cousin's work. I was just… facilitating the transaction."
"You're a disaster K," she said, shaking her head. "A handsome disaster, but still a disaster."
K preened. "So you do think I'm handsome!"
"I think you're tolerable," she said smirking. "On good days."
"Good days are all I have," K said. "And I'll prove it if you just let me have one kiss."
"If you want a kiss," she said, "you can go find one of the goats outside. I hear they're less talkative."
K burst out laughing, and even Riley cracked a smile.
Val's eyes shifted to me. She looked me up and down, taking in my clothes, my shoes, my face. Her eyes were cold, but there was something like fondness in them.
"Out-of-towner?" she asked.
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Figures." She turned back to her drink. "We get a lot of those. Especially since the new quotas."
I hesitated, then asked, "Who are you, exactly?"
Before she could answer, K jumped in. "This is Val," he said, his voice full of pride. "Town chief of Drybrook, my future bride, and the only person in the Expanse who managed to convince a wizard to work as her deputy. I'm still not sure how she did it.
Where is your satchel anyways? He usually follows you everywhere, but he's not here."
My blood ran cold hearing K mention a wizard. I forced myself to stay calm and to keep my face neutral.
"Head of the town," Val corrected, shooting K a look. "And the wizard thing is… complicated. Don't mind K, he's not my satchel. He's useful, and he follows orders. That's all that matters. As for why he's not here now, he's busy with a meeting."
"What was the summit about?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "If you don't mind me asking."
K laughed. "You haven't heard the news? It's been spreading faster than a wildfire."
I shook my head. "I've been traveling. I'm a bit out of the loop."
Val sighed, setting down her glass. "The wizard king sent out an order. All warden stations and towns across the realm are to increase their quotas for weapons, money and supplies. This is the third time in the last six months."
K nodded, his usual levity fading. "People are starting to wonder if they're preparing for
something."
Val's jaw tightened. "The toll on the economy is getting worse. We can barely keep up as it is. Another increase, and we'll have to start rationing."
I sat there, the glass of water forgotten in my hand. My heart was pounding. It was beginning to make sense. A wizard king, warden stations, towns across the realm. I knew exactly where we were. And that meant we were far from being safe. Far from help. Far from home.
I forced my breathing to stay steady and forced my face to remain neutral, like I hadn't just heard the words that confirmed every fear I had been trying to push down. I needed to leave. I needed to find Scott and Zoë and get out of this town as fast as
possible.
But before I could even move, the doors swung open again and another figure stepped into the tavern.
He moved differently than the patrons. Where they shuffled and slouched and leaned, he walked with purpose, his boots striking the floorboards with a steady, measured rhythm. His clothes were fine, too fine for a place like this. Dark wool trousers, a high-collared coat of deep blue, polished leather boots that gleamed even in the dim light. A small knife hung from his belt, its hilt wrapped in dark leather.
I recognized that knife. My stomach turned. I had seen that knife before, sinking into Marcus's side, over and over, while he
screamed and bled and still wouldn't let go.
I held my breath and sat there, frozen, watching him move with the easy confidence of someone who knew he was the most dangerous person in the room. His eyes scanned the tavern briefly, cataloging faces, assessing threats. They passed over me without stopping as he headed straight for Val, who looked up from her drink with a
raised eyebrow.
"Dorian," she said. "How did the meeting go?"
The wizard didn't bother sitting. He simply stood at her side, pouring himself a glass from Val's bottle.
"It went as well as could be expected," Dorian said, his voice smooth and measured. "The capital sent new instructions. The wardens are to be on high alert for fugitives in this region. Three vampires."
My heart skipped a beat.
"Vampires?" K's voice cut through the haze. "I haven't heard of one in years. Thought they were all gone."
"Most of them are," Dorian said. "These three are… unusual. They escaped from somewhere they shouldn't have been able to escape from. The capital is concerned."
"Escaped from where?" Val asked.
Dorian didn't answer immediately. He just looked at her with his cold, calculating eyes. "That's above my pay grade. I was only told to be on the lookout. They're traveling
together and they're in possession of a magical artifact."
Val nodded slowly. "Don't worry. If they're in the Expanse, we'll find them."
K laughed. "So what, the Capital's scared of three vampires? Or is it their strength they're afraid of?"
"Vampires are dangerous," Dorian said, his voice flat. "But they're not invincible. They can be killed, and these three are young. They'll make mistakes eventually."
I forced myself to relax and look bored.
"Vampires?" I said, my voice carefully casual. "Never seen one before. Heard stories, though. They're real?"
Dorian turned to look at me. His eyes were pale grey, like winter clouds, and they seemed to see right through me. "They're real," he said.
"Seems like you've got your hands full, then. And I was hoping you'd have time to show me a magic trick," K said, slapping the wizard on the back with more familiarity than I would have dared. "But I'm sure you'll find them. You always do."
Dorian's expression didn't change. He just kept looking at me, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"Strange clothes friend. Where are you from?" he asked.
I felt a chill run down my spine. I had told this story so many times in the past few hours that it almost felt true. Almost.
"Distant town," I said, my voice steady. "I was sent to deliver a message in Varesh, but I got robbed on the way. Lost my horse and supplies. I'm just trying to get back on my feet."
"Which town?" Dorian asked.
I froze. I didn't have a name or a backup plan. I had just been making it up as I went along, and now I was stuck.
"Um, Fenwick," I said, blurting the first name that popped into my head.
Dorian's eyes narrowed further. "Fenwick. Never heard of it before."
"It's small," I said quickly. "Very small. Just a few families. You wouldn't have heard of it."
"Is the warden base there operational?" Dorian asked.
I blinked. "I… I don't think so. It's been inactive for years."
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake. Val's head snapped up, her eyes sharp. K's easy grin faded into something more serious. Even Riley paused mid-pour.
"Inactive?" Val repeated. "I haven't heard of a warden base being inactive in a very long time."
I shrugged, trying to play it off. "Maybe I'm mistaken. It's been a while since I was there."
Dorian's hand moved to his belt, brushing against the knife. His heartbeat was rising. I could hear it, slow and steady, but faster than it had been a moment ago. I had to be
careful now.
"You're a strange one," he said. "Strange clothes, strange accent, strange story." He looked at Val. "I should do a routine check."
Val nodded slowly. "That's probably wise."
I had to say something. But my mind was blank, my words frozen in my throat.
K chuckled, breaking the tension. "Come on, Dorian. You're scaring the boy. He's just lost and confused. Happens all the time. I've been lost so many times I've lost count. Remember that time I thought I was in Tharos but I was actually in the Suncross? Spent three weeks wandering around before I realized my mistake."
Dorian's jaw tightened. "No, I don't remember. Besides, that's different."
"Is it?" K asked. "He's just some kid from a nowhere town trying to deliver a message. What are you implying with all these questions? Not every stranger is a vampire. Besides, can't you detect them? If he had any magical equipment with him, wouldn't you know? Geez, and here I was thinking you wizards were smart."
I silently thanked God I had given Zoë the orb instead of keeping it with me.
Dorian hesitated. His hand moved away from his knife. "Fine. But I'll still have to do a routine background check. You understand."
I nodded, trying to look relieved. "Of course. Whatever you need. But," I added quickly, "I really need to get to Varesh. I don't have enough coin to stay another night."
I saw K raise his eyebrows at that, but he said nothing.
Val spoke up. "That's not a problem. There's a lodge downtown. You can stay there for the night. I'll pay for it."
I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off. "Everyone who comes from out of town gets the same treatment until we've cleared them. But I'll make sure to fast track your case so you can leave the next day without any delays." She stood up, brushing off her coat. "The lodge is a few blocks from here. Just tell them I sent you."
I nodded weakly. "Thank you."
Val turned to Dorian. "Let's go. We need to send word to the rest of the team about the fugitives."
Dorian nodded, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer. Then he turned and followed Val out of the tavern.
K clapped me on the shoulder. "See? Nothing to worry about. Val's tough, but she's fair. And Dorian's just doing his job. He's not going to cause you any trouble."
"Right," I said. "Of course. Thanks for that back then."
"Hey, it's no big deal," K said, grinning. He turned to Riley, slinging his arm over my shoulder. "Riley, you son of a gun, Darmian
here has just graciously offered to pay off my tab in full. Can you believe that?"
"Hey, I never —"
"Don't worry," Riley said, cleaning a glass cup, "he knows he's not getting off that easily."
"Well, it was worth a
shot. I guess we'll have to finish our contest sometime later." K downed his glass, laughed again and wandered off to bother someone else.
I sat there, with my half glass of water still in my hand, my mind racing. Now I couldn't leave the city. That was the first problem. I had to stay for at least twenty-four hours,
which meant Scott and Zoë had to stay too. They couldn't leave without me, and I couldn't risk them trying to find a way out on their own.
The second problem was Zoë. She had the orb. If Dorian could detect magical equipment, he would find her. It was only a matter of time.
The third problem was the biggest one. None of us had any records. None of us had a town of origin, and I had just lied about mine to save my skin. If Dorian looked into it, he would find nothing. And then he would know.
We were trapped. I looked down at my trembling hands as the sounds of drinking and conversation continued around me.
What in the world was I going to do?