Coll nodded grimly. He was as familiar as any Guild member with the dangers of burnout, though it felt odd to Benin that the same concerns afflicting mortal adventurers should also apply to beings like sprites and even God Cores.
Burnout had once been Benin’s biggest fear. He’d had it drilled into him for so long that his affinity’s volatility made it a likelihood—no, a certainty—that he’d suffer an early death as a result of its misuse, like almost every pyromancer in the Guild’s recent history. Yet not only had Bekkit taught him greater mastery of fire, he’d also opened him up to connecting with the other elements as well—a feat he hadn’t even known was possible. He’d been lied to for years, stifled, made to feel inferior and dangerous.
Another thing I’ll be sure to make Varnell pay for someday.
Dark thoughts swirled around him as he and Coll continued down the mountain. Then another consciousness flared within his own. The emberfox caught his eye, and his mouth twitched into a smile. She turned away, nose in the air as usual, but her tails swished with satisfaction rather than annoyance. He could feel it through their bond, reminding him of the feats he’d achieved the day before.
Though he felt guilt at his actions’ unexpected consequences—washing Corey away downstream had definitely not been part of the plan—he couldn’t help but secretly rejoice. Not only had he established his first successful paired portals, he’d also finally accomplished what he’d longed for since the Menagerie: he’d bonded with the emberfox.
He’d been lost, panicking, caught in the grip of chaos. His own portal had been about to drain him dry whensuddenly there was a second presence in his mind; the sucking magic was drawing from a lake of fiery mana, sparing the paltry trickle that remained in his own globes just in time.
No longer on the verge of self-destruction, and encouraged by Bekkit’s voice shouting in his ear, Benin had rallied. Using the techniques the sprite had been drilling into him this whole time, he focused all his energy on splitting the inflow of the emberfox’s power. After successfully quartering it, he’d drawn from the ambient mana of his surroundings to convert three of the four streams to earth, air and water until the portals were balanced once more and could be dismissed.
It was only then that he realized what had happened. Still coughing water from his forced, but thankfully brief trip underwater, Bekkit explained that the Core was gone. The sprite had sounded shaken. Not surprising, all things considered. He’d almost drowned, and now he was stuck in his terrestrial form until he could be reunited with the Core.
The Core’s priest—Gnole or Gnile or something like that—had already rallied the gnomes and begun leading them up the mountain. The only one who remained behind with Benin and Pyra was Ajax, the warrior-gnome they’d rescued from the Marsh Zolom’s disgustingly distensible gullet. Thankfully, they’d crossed paths with Coll, who was just returning from the top. Hyper-aware of their near-disastrous decisions to leave the gnomes alone in the past, he and Coll had accompanied them to the summit—shouldering as many supplies as they could so as to minimize the wagons’ load on the steep paths—and then waited with them for hours.
When Corey didn’t show up, though, he and Coll decided they should descend the mountain to search for him. Perhaps he’d washed up somewhere along the stream.
Though Bekkit seemed certain Corey would find his way back to the tribe, he agreed that it would be prudent to at least make sure the worst hadn’t happened. It had been an entire day since the incident at the river, after all.
The trail was more treacherous in the dark, the sun setting on the far side of the mountain, but just enough light lingered for them to avoid any missteps that would lead to them breaking their necks. A smattering of stars had already pushed their way into view on the velvety blackness of the eastern sky. Benin found himself gazing up at them. It was strange, this feeling of accomplishment; like things were finally coming together and going his way. He rather liked it.
Coll stopped abruptly, and Benin almost walked into the back of him.
“Why are we—”
Then he saw what held the other man’s gaze.
On the trail before them was a figure. A deeper darkness among the shadows, it stood unassumingly in the center of the trail, blocking their way down.
Pyra growled. Glancing down, Benin saw that her ears were flat against her head, and her tails were twitching threateningly like fiery snakes. His eyes widened as a series of impressions floated through the bond, coalescing in his mind as semi-solid concepts. She-man. Anger. Hurt. Danger.
The figure reached up with one hand and drew back her hood. He still couldn’t quite see her face, but as she came closer, the faint starlight let Benin pick out details of her appearance. Her hair didn’t reach her shoulders; it stuck out in various directions, stiff and spiky as though full of leaves and mud. Her cloak was heavy and ragged, and smelled even worse than his and Coll’s clothes, as though she’d been sleeping rough for months.
She took another step closer, and Pyra’s tails flared in warning. The orange glow illuminated the woman’s hair, revealing hints of red beneath the mud and dirt, and Benin finally saw her face clearly.
Coll gasped. Benin took a step back, as appalled as he was confused.
It… it can’t be.
“Lila?”
The woman smiled coldly, though there was no humor in it, and the expression’s forced cruelty could not hide the pain in her eyes.
“Did you miss me?” she asked.
Fifty-Eight
Misconceptions
Tiri
The sound of a key turning in a lock echoed down the stairs into the study. As the heavy door was hefted open, Tiri quickly and carefully replaced
