Caitlin sighed, burying her head in her hands. “That’s not what Lambert told us, Olyver.”

Olyver sat on the desk’s edge and glared at her. “Lambert said they completed the structure. Last month, the frame needed four weeks before anyone could survive outside of the space dock.”

“A projection based on borrowed crews and atmosphere processors.” Caitlin plucked a pen off her desk as she rubbed her brow. With a steadying breath, she whirled it about her fingers. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Isn’t that right?”

“Those workers bought us time,” Olyver objected as he gestured with his hands. “So why are you treating progress like a problem?”

“We have to reassign them.” Caitlin slammed her pen down, punctuating her words.

Olyver sighed as he gripped his desk’s edge. “When did Quinn enter the office?”

She jumped to her feet and leaned over her desk. “You knew this measure wouldn’t last. Every extra week on the ship delays important planetary infrastructure, not to mention vital tools for colonization.”

“Such as?”

“The eastern anchors,” Caitlin said, rising to her full height, “and the processors Lambert says will miss calibration if their crews don’t return before the next supply cycle.”

“Fine,” Olyver waved at her as he paced about their shared office. “The loan ends before it becomes theft.”

“We drafted a schedule for shifting the workers’ focus.” Caitlin nodded her head and withdrew a document from a drawer. She walked to Olyver’s desk and laid it down. “Please review and sign the official transfer.”

Olyver lifted it and reviewed the words. When he finished, his gaze rose to hers. “When did you and Quinn find time to draft this?”

“Soon after arranging for the influx of workers.” She turned and returned to her seat. Caitlin reclaimed her pen and pointed at the document resting on Quinn’s desk. “Lambert warned us that the loan had a hard edge. Keep them longer, and the first colonists may have a ship before they have somewhere safe to settle.”

Olyver looked away as he dropped the transfer. “But why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“We did.” Caitlin’s smile warmed as she thrust her pen at the document. “You’re voicing your concerns now.”

Olyver’s knuckles whitened as he forced a question through his sneer. “Why not bring this kind of decision to me earlier?”

“Because you were talking with your constituents,” Caitlin said. “Sign it. Then you can tell them the ship gained three weeks without stealing six from the platforms.”

Grumbling Olyver plucked the pad off his desk and read through the proposal again...

“This is the third thrust the horde’s prepared today. Where are they finding more bodies?”

“Who knows?” With a grunt, Jarvis peered through a hatch. “Just remember your targets. We can’t waste energy targeting the same creatures.”

“We’ll handle the medium threats, but we’d appreciate proof that those upgraded cannons exist and work.”

“Cecile should have more soon.”

“Are you talking about a normal person’s definition... or hers?”

Jarvis pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his face. As he returned the damp cloth, he nudged the gunner wielding the altered prototype. “I’m hopeful we’ll receive more soon.”

“That means we’re using Cecile’s ambiguous interpretation.”

“She’s converting several at once, and she insists the process is complicated. We have one flexible weapon capable of eradicating huge swaths of these monsters.” Jarvis switched the radio for a scope and examined the assembling creatures emerging from the distant treeline. “While you handle the infantry, my gunners will deal with those walking trees.”

“Roger that. Then we’ll trust you to neutralize whatever air support materializes.”

“This assault doesn’t have any of those pesky flyers,” Jarvis said as he moved to another hatch. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t appear once the charge starts. If they do, they’re our problem. I don’t want your attention drifting off those green skins.”

“Roger that.”

“Get ready.” Jarvis switched the radio’s channel and activated it. “Cecile, where are those upgraded cannons?”

“We need another thirty minutes for the full batch!”

Jarvis’s fist slammed into the bulkhead, and as he pulled it away, a few droplets of blood tumbled from his fingers. “I don’t expect our relentless enemy to sit and wait while you finish tinkering. Bring whatever weapons are finished!”

Jarvis switched off his radio and rushed to the gunner wielding the prototype. He squeezed Gerald’s shoulder and kneeled beside him. “Gerald, target the most densely packed sections of their infantry.”

When the gunner activated the weapon, the hum thundered through the chamber. “I remember the warnings, though I’d rather start thinning them out now.”

“I understand the frustration, but they seem to have an endless supply of bodies.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like our problem.”

“Don’t worry. They’re not going to keep us waiting long.”

Gerald pulled the scope to his eye as his fingers whitened around the weapon’s grip. “That wasn’t comforting. Hopefully, my stomach will settle once they charge.”

A woman to Gerald’s right snorted as her head twisted. “I’ll remind you of that once the onslaught reaches us.”

Jarvis stepped between them as he studied the undulating creatures...

With a sigh, she laid the book on her chest as she leaned away from him. “Do you object to my giving certain pupils extra attention?”

“No,” Leodor said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m simply surprised they’re willing to take on extra work from you.”

Haughty laughter bubbled out of her lips as she tossed the book onto the table. “Humiliation is a wonderful motivator.”

As Leodor’s lips twitched, blue illumination flared from the bookshelf. Tiatha’s chair skittered across the floor as she pointed at the swelling light. “Didn’t you tell me that your teachers were incapable of creating portals?”

“No one can…”

Tiatha inched closer to the expanding opening while a pale golden light wrapped around her fingers. “Then who’s forcing their way into your school?”

“I don’t know.” Leodor shook his head as blue electricity crackled across his shoulders. “My wards prevent all but the most skilled from opening a way inside the grounds.”

With a silent explosion, the light imploded into a swirling vortex as a lean man wielding a spear stepped through the maelstrom. His gaze swept across the library, stopping when he found Leodor and Tiatha. His lips curled into a predatory smile as he thumped the weapon against the ground as if driving in a nail.

“We have a Hunter,” Tiatha said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a bookshelf. “Would you like the first strike?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t dealt with him yet,” Leodor said, stepping between his sister and the intruder. “However, I’d be willing to lead our rebuttal.”

“It would appear that I have located a couple of rogues.” The intruder’s spear leapt into the air, whirling over his head. “The council will smile upon me for collecting a pair of criminals.”

“Counting your prizes is useless if you’re not alive to collect them.” Leodor shook his head as he thrust a slender finger toward the invader. “Why don’t you Hunters ever learn from your mistakes?”

The Hunter’s laughter rebounded off the bookshelves while a bolt of electricity lanced from the whirling spear. As it raced across the room, Leodor spun out of its path, letting it collide with the stone floor behind him. While debris flew about the room, a pair of bolts erupted from Leodor’s fingertip, racing toward the Hunter...

After the dragon’s neck and wing vaporized, Jarvis shoved his gun at his teammate and rushed to Cecile, catching her by the shoulders. “We can’t stop using these weapons.”

Cecile ripped Jarvis’s hands from her and thumped his chest. “If you keep them running at this rate, the upgrades won’t matter. They’ll blow up.”

The closest gunner’s hands slipped from the cannon’s grips as he backed away. “What did you say?!”

“Keep those dragons off the wall!” Jarvis spun around and lowered his voice. “I thought your upgrades fixed that problem.”

“This kind of continual fire wasn’t part of my design.” She planted her hands on her hips before gripping the collar of his shirt and forcing him to look at the cannons. “Stop overusing these guns!”

Jarvis pinched his nose as he shook his head. “What are the odds they’ll detonate?”

“You want to risk blowing the cannons up?!”

Jarvis steered the engineer against the doorframe and pitched his voice so only she could understand him. “We’re dealing with about a dozen dragons ferrying minotaurs and trolls over the walls. Our regular rifles can’t harm those beasts. Those odds matter.”

Cecile kneaded her forehead and groaned. “With this kind of load, the odds of catastrophic failure rise to somewhere between ten and fifteen percent.”

“Can we keep them from exploding?”

Her shoulders fell as her back hit the doorframe. “Before the cannons blow up, they will start whining. As soon as you hear the whine, fire one controlled shot to bleed off the charge, then turn it off.”

“That’ll prevent the weapon from detonating?”

“No, but it’s the best chance to keep them intact.”

“Be an extra set of ears,” Jarvis said as he urged her inside the crow’s nest. As she stumbled into the chamber, he pulled out a radio. “Fenton, how are the walls?”

“The cannons are the only reason the worst hasn’t reached us.”

Wincing, Jarvis tapped the device against the doorjamb. “Stop beating around the bush and spill!”

“Those monsters never run out of corpses to throw at us. The moment we kill one, three more climb over the bodies.”

“Roger that,” Jarvis said, kicking the wall. “Keep doing your job, and I’ll see about thinning the horde.” Jarvis shoved the radio into his belt. He marched across the room and spun Cecile away from the gunners. “How difficult will it be to adjust the cannons?”

“That depends,” Cecile said as her eyes flicked toward the nearest cannon...

"I'm aware of the old tales." Ferrek's nose scrunched as his beefy fingertip poked the device. "What's this?"

Closing his eyes, Jarvis folded his hands, pressing them against his forehead. "That's rather complicated. We can discuss it another time. Let's focus on what's before us."

Ferrek lifted the pad, flipping it back and forth. With a shrug, the burly dwarf dropped the tablet to the desk and leaned into his seat. Laughter filled the small room as he pulled his weapon off the floor and a stone from his pack. He spat on the stone and placed it beside the device. "And what is it you're hoping to gain from this conversation?"

"I'm offering a reason to rebuild what was lost."

The heavy blade thudded against the wet stone, and Ferrek guided its edge along the rock. When it cleared, he flipped the ax, drawing the other side down the stone. The dwarf fell into a steady rhythm as he repeated those simple motions. "Your ancestor, Tarian, insulted our leader's honor. My people do not forget those kinds of offenses or insults."

Ferrek pulled the ax off the stone and ran his thumb across the edge. His lips curled into a smile as he laid the weapon across the table. "It's fortunate for you that time has altered our leadership, and our current king isn't as attached to the lore."

"Does that mean an alliance is possible?"

"I remember the stories my father told me about your kin. Despite being weaker, they possessed magical weapons." With the flat of the blade, Ferrek scooped the tablet up, tossing it into Jarvis's lap. His grin widened as his hand flashed to his ax, slamming it into the table. "Based on your destruction of that tree, your weapons are superior to what they wielded."

Jarvis lifted his fingers to his chin and licked his lips. "Are you suggesting that your liege will be more willing to assist us, if we supply you with some of our formidable equipment?"

Warm laughter echoed about the room as Ferrek yanked his weapon from the tabletop. "I like you."

"It's been a pleasure meeting you as well."

"You're lucky I'm a close friend of the king, and we share similar opinions on most topics." Ferrek shook his head as he pulled the weapon toward his eye and dragged his thumb across the edge. He laid the ax down and lifted the stone from the desk, wiping it off on his pants leg. As his breath rushed from his lips, the stout dwarf gestured with the stone. "Offering to assist us in our defense from the dangers in this world wouldn't hurt your cause."

With a smile, Jarvis lifted a hand. "We're having difficulty securing enough weapons to defend our encampment, but we have plenty of bodies ready to fight with you that can bolster the support of your home. Would that be an acceptable compromise?"

Ferrek laid the ax head on the ground, propping the handle against the table as he slipped the stone into his pack...

Quinn ignored Olyver's outburst as he flipped through his documents. "Does it matter, Olyver?"

He pulled a file from his coat and snarled. "We are not making progress on the draft or the ships."

"They're not ready to be completed."

Olyver slapped the papers out of Quinn's hands before throwing his stack into his fellow triumvir's chest, "We've had this drafted for a month, and we haven't ratified it."

Quinn leaned back, lifting the document. "What makes you expect it'll be approved?"

Olyver's scowl intensified as he loomed over Quinn. "We agreed—"

"No, we didn't." Quinn gathered the scattered papers around his desk. Once he retrieved the last sheet, he placed it on top of his skewed pile. He folded his hands together and glared at Olyver. "What needs to happen first is perfecting and completing the federation's charter."

"Even if I agree with that, it circles back to Caitlin's whereabouts."

The triumvir groaned and rounded his desk, encroaching into Olyver's space. "Why are you in such a rush, Olyver?"

"I'm not impatient." Olyver pushed Quinn away as his eyes narrowed. "Why are you two sandbagging this?"

Quinn shook his head before sitting on his desk's edge. He snatched Olyver's documents as he offered them to the other triumvir. "This draft is still three to five years from being implemented. You've seen the construction projections, Olyver."

"Stop using that as an excuse for dragging this agreement through your roadblocks!" Olyver shoved the papers off Quinn's desk as he retrieved his. He slammed them onto the empty space and thumped Quinn's chest. "I'm tired of you and Caitlin trying to circumvent this crucial work with that trite argument!"

"There's nothing dismissive with reality, Olyver." Quinn brushed Olyver's fingers off before he reclaimed the scattered papers. "Truth helps our cause."

"Bah," Olyver said as he stormed off to his desk. "I need to bring something more substantial to my constituents."

With his papers recovered, Quinn brandished them like a conductor's baton. "While the colonization ships have been designed, construction is still multiple years off. We cannot return to the stars until they are finished. You reviewed the same reports I did."

Olyver slammed his palm against his desk, his eyes narrowing to slits. "If you two had not dragged your heels on everything, we would've already completed the first colonization ship."

Dropping the stack down, Quinn slipped into his seat and leaned back, lifting the front legs just off the floor. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the ceiling. "If we'd spent our time with the ships, we wouldn't have flourished."

"But at what cost?"

"I will not argue this point with you again, Olyver." Quinn's chair thumped down as he slammed the documents Olyver had given him...

He rested the stock of his rifle on the ground as his gaze drifted among the members of his unit. Once he finished the tally, he lifted his weapon to his shoulder and rubbed his chin. “Does everyone understand what Jarvis tasked us to do?”

Alek raised a finger and pitched his voice. “We’re searching for food, fuel, and friends, and not necessarily in that order.”

“Despite our friend’s attitude, he’s not wrong.” Fenton stepped beside the flippant man and swatted the back of Alek’s head. Fenton pointed at the treeline and licked his lips. “Keep your eyes peeled for anything that might prove useful or dangerous.”

When the radio attached to Fenton’s hip chirped, he groaned and pulled it off his belt. “Jarvis, talk to me.”

“Have you reached the trees yet?”

The leader whirled around and kicked the stone barrier. “Are you in the crow’s nest?”

“Yes.”

Fenton dragged his fingernails down his face, swallowing a stream of curses. When his voice died, he looked up and forced his lips to curl into a grin. “If you look out the window, you’ll notice that we just walked through the wall.”

“Then you might have a problem.”

“Why?”

“We’ve got movement in the trees.”

Fenton spun toward the treeline. He tapped two soldiers on the shoulder, and in unison, the pair turned and leveled their weapons at the trees. As limbs swayed back and forth, Fenton inched closer. “You’re calling out to discuss some swaying branches?”

“With the monsters roaming this planet, we’d be foolish not to jump when things sway against the wind.”

The remaining rifles whirled through the air, joining Fenton. With the barrels focused on the swaying boughs, the squad closed in on the wall. When Fenton’s back met the stone, he steadied himself and edged toward the forest. As he stepped in front of his team, Fenton raised a hand, stopping the squad. “What exactly are we looking at?”

After taking a few steps, a branch swayed against the wind, and a pulse of yellow light tore from the Crow’s Nest and swallowed the tree.

“HEY!”

Flames erupted along the trunk in an instant. Then Fenton’s unit bounced off the barrier. Fenton whirled around, slamming his fist against the slab. “Open this gate!”

“Who’s out there!” a mysterious and gruff voice shot across the glade.

“Hurry and haul this stone away from the wall.” Fenton shoved his radio onto his belt as he pressed his cheek against the stock. “I’d prefer not to deal with whatever’s tracking us.”

A thick red beard pushed through the shadows as a heavy ax slammed into the ground beside the burning tree. He wrenched the blade free and cleaved it through the trunk...

When she burst forth from the tree line, she stumbled, dropping to her hands and knees as if the very air had stolen her strength. The cool grass cushioned her fall. When she dared to lift her gaze, the world around her bloomed in silent wonder. Mist glided like breath across the ground, while a wide silver river cut through the clearing, its surface still as glass.

Above the forest’s canopy, the clouds continued their slow drift across the lavender sky, like ink in water. Two stone arches, glowing with a faint violet light, stood beside each other on the shore. After climbing to her feet, she stumbled toward them, her breath catching. Each framed the same river cutting through a forest. Complete with a crooked branch jutting out to hang over the water and a black crow, with slick and motionless feathers, perched upon it.

As her gaze bounced between the views, the birds did the same thing. Resting motionless on their perches as they stared at her. Elena ignored them and resumed studying the images. The trees were the same. The rocks were the same. Everything seemed identical between the two images.

A gust stirred the mist, pulling it about her. As Elena whirled about, a low and melodic voice shattered the silence. “Ah, a threadwalker, bold and bright. Be ye drawn by fate or chance or fright?”

“What!? Who’s there!?”

A figure tumbled from the canopy, landing in a crouch. The rail-thin figure, no taller than a teenager, rose with a grin too wide for his face. A shadow of mirth curled behind his eyes as he bowed. When he rose, he stepped toward Elena, his hands drifting behind his back.

She reflexively stepped away from the newcomer, covering her mouth. “Who — What are you?”

The creature discarded an invisible hat with an exaggerated flourish. “Gaius, fool, guide, and test. I wear many names, none I detest. I keep the paths where threads unwind. It’s up to me to judge the walkers who dare to find.”

Elena’s head shook as she inched away. “What do you mean, judge?”

The creature danced a half-circle around Elena as his arms whipped about. “One path leads to the world that’s yours. The other? A shadow locked behind doors. Choose wrong, and you’ll be forced to stay. In someone else’s skin, day after day.”

Elena faced the portals. “They’re identical. How am I supposed to make a choice between them?”

Gaius clapped his hands like a giddy child. “Some weep, some choke. But some possess sight that burns through the smoke. Some find the thread that truths conceal. The path that bends, the world that’s real.”

She stepped to the portal on her right and resumed studying it. It was the same scene. Everything was unchanged...

A curse echoed off the walls, and as silence rushed to fill the space, Cecile’s head crested the workbench. “You weren’t supposed to bother me for a couple of days while I performed my diagnostics.”

“That’s why you got five.”

“Has it been that long?”

Jarvis nodded as he retrieved an implement from the bench. “Based on where you are, I’ll assume you’re poking at my engine.”

Cecile snatched the tool from Jarvis, returning to the opening. “I’m following your standing orders to get this bucket off the ground.”

He reached down and pulled her clear of the hatch. Jarvis’s thumb pointed at the workbench as he leaned toward her. “While that’s an important goal, your top priority was repairing and replicating that cannon.”

With a shrug, Cecile waved her tool at the weapon scattered over her table. “Five days…?”

“You’re in your element. I’m not surprised you lost track of time.” He stepped to the workbench, tapping the device. “Now tell me why you’ve abandoned the cannon.”

“I haven’t deserted it.” Cecile swiped her eyes as her shoulders sagged. She hopped onto a stool and pulled an implement from her belt. She stuck the tip into the chamber and adjusted the wires there. “Whenever I wear out a mystery, I need to sink my teeth into something new.”

Jarvis plucked the tool from her and patted the chassis. “Have you repaired the overload?”

“Not yet.”

“We’ve successfully used the other experimental weapon in three raids.”

Cecile reclaimed the device and tapped it against the hollowed-out cannon. “There’s a difference between theoretical and operational. And given your proximity to the thing, I thought you’d appreciate that distinction.”

Jarvis wrung his hands. “When will we receive more cannons?”

“I’m not sure. While I’ve isolated the cause of their self-detonation, I haven’t corrected it. But if you’re eager to tempt suicide, I’ll produce flawed weapons for you.”

Jarvis’s palm slammed against his forehead while gritting his teeth. “If you’ve identified it, why isn’t it fixed?”

“Whoever designed the original was careless.”

“Why’s that?” Jarvis asked, sitting down at the workbench. “The folks back home are pretty smart.”

Cecile shook her head and dove into the open access panel. “Even the smartest people make mistakes, especially with a prototype...

“Good morning, Olyver,” Caitlin said as he claimed his desk’s seat.

Olyver gave Caitlin a slight dip of his head, “Good morning, Caitlin. I hope you two are doing well.”

“What do you want?” Quinn asked as he shoved papers aside.

“To bring the two of you to task.”

Caitlin slammed her hands onto her desk as she shot to her feet. “You’re out of line—”

A whistle echoed through the office as Quinn stared at Caitlin. She stopped talking as she returned to her seat. Quinn’s gaze drifted to Olyver. “The triumvirate agreed that the conversations you’re seeking are best served by open discussion.”

“That was the agreement my predecessor made.” Olyver folded his arms across his chest.

“We searched for an appropriate time to hold these discussions. However, finding time for those talks has been difficult,” Quinn said.

Olyver lifted a finger, keeping Quinn from continuing. After a few moments, he lowered his hand and spoke with clarity. “Quinn, you both outmaneuvered Malark with ease. He lacked the aptitude for a life embroiled in politics.”

“We’re trying to lead our people back to the stars,” Caitlin said with a sigh. “We were not trying to outmaneuver your predecessor.”

Olyver eyed Caitlin, studying her for a moment. “Your intentions don’t matter. What you’ve done is to keep us from moving forward. If we wait for consensus before designing, we guarantee a death by paralysis. If we begin design now, we give that consensus something real to react to.”

“We do understand that,” Quinn said.

“Before we colonize another world, we need the laws to govern them determined and codified,” Olyver said as if Quinn hadn’t interrupted him.

Caitlin let her eyes flit to Quinn, and she saw his slight nod. She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. “We know that as well, Olyver. But the scope of these conversations required us to shift the discussion to a forum to allow our citizens an opportunity to voice their opinions.”

“A delay tactic,” Olyver said with grace despite the nascent snarl. “One the population is growing tired of dealing with.”

Caitlin’s mouth parted for a moment before she snapped her lips shut. Her eyes lingered on Olyver for a second before shifting to Quinn.

“And what would you suggest, Olyver?” Quinn asked as he lifted a pen from his desk.

“For the three of us to have the very discussion you promised my predecessor and his constituents. However, I want more than a debate. I expect to derive a list of requirements for the ships, so that our engineers can start designing them. Also, we will draft the required legislation to guide our fledgling federation...

Moments later, he ceased and withdrew his hands. Rising, he extended a palm over the ground and made a sharp motion toward the circle’s edge. The surface trembled before shifting, revealing something buried, a massive sheet of metal, dulled with age but undeniably foreign. Thobin’s brow furrowed as a rustle set his senses on edge.

“What did you find?”

Thobin turned to the voice. A man stood at the clearing’s edge, casual but watchful, his predatory eyes following Thobin’s every move.

“I don’t know who you are, but if you’re a hunter, I’d recommend you leave. I won’t give you a second warning.”

The man smirked, stepping forward. “Do you have an objection to someone finding food?”

Thobin’s stance widened as he stepped toward the interloper. “You’re not a wizard, are you?”

With a sly smile, the stranger lifted a hand. His flesh rippled and twisted, reshaping into a feline paw before returning to its human shape. “That’s all the magic me and mine can perform. But since you’re in our territory, I’d appreciate an answer to my question. If not, my friends might have to encourage your cooperation.”

Thobin froze. He had sensed something earlier, but now, fully alert, he extended his awareness, finding predators lurking just beyond the tree line. His gaze flicked toward a trio of large feline figures, muscles coiled beneath sleek fur, waiting for a command. Then he found two more groups of silent sentinels.

Slowly, Thobin raised his hands in surrender and turned back to the stranger. “I was simply trying to establish a home. When I attempted to shift the earth for my shelter’s foundation, I discovered this.” He gestured toward the massive metal plate. “It’s beyond my ability to manipulate.”

The stranger’s feline eyes flickered toward the artifact. “What did you unearth?”

“I’m uncertain.” Thobin hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “But it’s not natural. Though it isn’t dwarven craft, nor does it bear marking from any elven or human smith.”

The stranger circled the exposed surface, his keen gaze scanning the oddly smooth metal. “You’re from the civilization of humans, elves, and dwarves, correct?”

Thobin tensed at the careful wording. “And you are?”

“Alric,” the stranger said.

Thobin’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Alric’s smirk widened, but he didn’t offer more. Instead, he kneeled beside the artifact, brushing loose soil from its surface. His fingers traced strange markings from the sheet of metal.

Thobin’s head tilted as he inched closer. “Can you read the markings?”

“No,” Alric admitted, standing. “Do you know what it means?”

“For a second, I thought you possessed knowledge of it.”

“None of my kin have any knowledge of this.” The rustling of leaves signaled movement from the feline sentries. Their ears twitched, their sleek tails flicking in agitation. They sensed something. Alric’s expression darkened. “We’re not alone...

Looking up from his papers, Quinn sighed and glanced at his friend. "I'm not surprised, considering Malark knows how much his tardiness annoys you."

"Excuse me?" Caitlin's eyes narrowed as her gaze shifted to the other triumvir.

Quinn shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Why do you think he's always late?"

"Is expecting a degree of decorum unreasonable?"

"It's not. However, if you learned to ignore his antics, he'd stop squandering our precious time."

Caitlin rose and walked over to Quinn, her eyes narrowing when the door flew open. With a glance over her shoulder, she spotted the heavy-set individual waddling into the room. Caitlin huffed as she stalked back to her desk. Before she returned to her seat, the new arrival entered and spoke with a tired voice. "I apologize for being late. A meeting with several concerned citizens occupied me."

Caitlin lifted her pen as she shook her head. "Malark, it's still far too early to discuss the eventual workings of the federation that'll replace the Larian Federation."

"Why's that, my dear?" Malark marched across the room and relieved his legs of the strain of supporting his bulk. Once Malark's carved chair supported his weight, the plump man withdrew a small rectangular rod. He unclipped one end of it and opened the fan. As he began fanning himself, Malark's eyes became harder as he continued. "It's been five years since the two of you founded this triumvirate. That question still lacks a satisfactory answer the people are willing to accept. They're more worried about this issue than either of you are prepared to admit."

"Malark, there are more pressing concerns we have to deal with." Quinn shuffled the papers on his desk. "What you're talking about is fifteen to twenty years distant."

"We disagree on that, Quinn."

Caitlin narrowed her glare on Malark. "And who is we?"

"Plenty of the population disagrees with you. Besides, they possess the resolve, not to mention the funding, to alter the makeup of this triumvirate." Malark fanned himself as he offered a smirk to Quinn.

He recognized the deliberate threat and looked over at Caitlin. When she noticed Quinn's look, he shook his head. The objection on her lips died as she settled into her seat. Quinn returned his gaze to the pudgy man as he steepled his fingers under his chin. "What do these individuals desire to discuss with us?"

"We feel that the new colonization ships need to be approved." Malark swiped his fan onto his desk. Then he tapped the fan on its uncluttered surface. "The final topic we must discuss is the codification regarding the guidelines for the equality of planets. Without those laws secured, the issue will revert to the status quo of the Larian Federation."

Caitlin clenched her fists and released a breath. "You know full well every planet was equal under Larian law."

"Maybe," Malark stated slowly. "It was for some, Caitlin. However, the vast majority got no equality under the law. Hence why the great colonization ships were overcrowded."

"And you want to ensure the constituents such a law will exist." Quinn raised his hands and leaned back in his chair.

Malark leaned forward, closing his fan. "I do."

"You realize we'll have to manufacture more warships to protect the smaller colonization ships as a result." Quinn tapped a scrap of paper in front of him...

"Careful, Fenton. It's been volatile since your departure."

Fenton climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt off his clothes. He waved his squad on and resumed his jog. "How hectic was it since we left?"

"Nothing you'd call stable." Jarvis's gaze swept the compound as Fenton's team marched through the makeshift checkpoint. His jaw tightened before he spun about and strode up the ramp. "But we need to talk, and everyone else needs to join the effort to build the wall around this boat. Use any materials you can find."

Rubbing his temples with ragged fingers, Fenton followed his commander into the vessel. "What aren't you telling me?"

"There's too much to discuss." At the top of the ramp, Jarvis hurried into a side chamber, claimed the closest seat, and grabbed the tablet off the table. "I believe you mentioned filling a storage assembly."

With a nod, Fenton withdrew the device and traded it for the pad. "Tarian's warnings should provide answers with enough study, but for the time being hint at our welcome."

"We had to repel coordinated raids." Jarvis sighed as he connected the assembly to a screen. Once the logs filled the display, he skimmed through them. When he finished, his eyebrows crept up. "It looks like creatures similar to those that attacked us devastated the original colony."

"Have you found any reports on trees?"

Jarvis's head turned away from the text as his lips pursed. "What?"

Fenton jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "On our return to the ship, a pair of them charged my team."

"You mean the forest tried to assault you?"

With a grim shake, Fenton wrung his fingers and patted his rifle. "I meant what I said. They walked, spoke, and attempted to kill us. Though neither were expecting our weaponry."

"Are you serious?"

Fenton nodded and slipped his weapon off his shoulder. "The creature's bark, or rather skin, ignited upon impact. When the attacking creatures couldn't douse the flames, they dashed through the trees, still trying to extinguish themselves. Then the forest answered with a tremor beneath our boots."

"You said multiple ones attacked you?"

"Once the initial pair disappeared, another group emerged and chased my team, and if not for leapfrogging, they would have run us down." Fenton rested his head against the bulkhead and slammed his fist against the metal. With a huff, he turned and lifted the tablet. "But enough about our experience. Based upon our greeting, should I assume you encountered something just as bizarre?"

Jarvis snatched the pad and tapped it against the table. His gaze dropped to the device as he released his breath. "Do two waves of green-skinned creatures count?"

One of Fenton's eyes widened as he claimed a seat. "Green men tried to overrun the ship?"

"They ranged from tiny to gigantic." Jarvis stared at the bulkhead with a vacant expression. "And I'm afraid I underestimated them...

Please save Sandra.

Peering down the hall, he saw an ajar door. He folded the photo once and slid it back into place, as if returning something fragile to a vault, and retrieved a small periscope. He brought the device to his eye and inched closer. Through the gap, he saw a filthy woman chained to the far wall. It took him seconds to see through the grime, but he’d found Sandra.

However, she wasn’t alone. In the middle of the chamber, a different woman tended a bubbling cauldron. As she stirred the contents, she tossed in fresh ingredients. After swallowing a litany of curses, he tilted his periscope toward the ceiling, revealing three crouched shapes overhead. To her left, three winged creatures dangled from the ceiling, talons hooked into makeshift perches. As Solomon’s scowl deepened, he let his gaze linger on the monsters, studying the scaled hide stretched over their bones.

Solomon stepped away from the open door as he shoved his periscope back into its place. He ejected the magazine from his rifle and tucked it under his arm as he leaned against the wall, tilting his weapon toward the ceiling. He cupped his right hand over the ejection port while he pulled the charging handle back, ejecting the round from the weapon.

After catching the bullet, he eased the breach closed and slid it into the magazine. He skimmed through the loaded magazines on his chest. When he found the one with a thin line of red electrical tape, he exchanged them. Solomon rolled his neck as he depressed the release and inserted the magazine. After removing his thumb, he tugged on the inserted mag, ensuring it was seated correctly before pulling the charging handle back to load his initial shot.

With his weapon prepared for the encounter, Solomon took a deep breath before slipping his fingers into the opening. A heartbeat later, he flung the door open and hopped into the doorway, his rifle trained on the woman standing behind the cauldron. Despite keeping his weapon trained on the wiry and deranged woman, Solomon shifted his gaze to Sandra. “You’re going to release the woman you kidnapped now.”

“Or what, you will shoot me? Your reputation precedes you. You slaughter beasts without hesitation. But you do not shoot people, even if you believe them to be wicked.” The woman added a measured pinch of powder to the cauldron. She finally lifted her eyes, filled with madness and certainty. “You’re bound by meaningless morals...

She recognized many familiar faces, all hard workers, but tonight they looked ready to turn on her. No one tried to meet her gaze. For a moment, even Quinn avoided her. As she slumped in her chair, her mind sought an answer, but she kept circling back to the fact that everything had changed. The loudest voices carried an edge she had never heard before.

Caitlin dug through her notes and hoped the meeting would be more productive. As the clamor grew, she leaned over to Quinn, covering her microphone. "Is it too late to change our minds?"

Quinn flashed her a satisfied grin as he patted her back. "Yes, we made the decision, and it stands."

With a groan, Caitlin began tapping her mic, and the raucous crowd stilled, one stray voice at a time. When silence settled upon the hall, she addressed the latest batch of concerns. "Every attempt to debate the efficacy of rebuilding what was lost is a moment we cannot recover."

Her gaze swept across the gathered colonists as she drew a breath. "While I agree in principle that things must be altered, it's a discussion that's not relevant in our current circumstances. We are shelving the idea of colonizing other worlds and reforming the Federation. We need to build a solid foundation for our home. Once we've established our new world, we'll shift our focus back to the stars."

"You're the one who brought us here! You don't get to decide what comes next!" A man shouted. Several others rose to their feet, voices cracking with anger.

"We cannot fracture. We need unity that holds." Caitlin raised her hands, urging everyone to calm down. When the talking ceased, she folded them on the table. "Our immediate need involves developing our new home. Once complete, we'll adjust our platforms to work without the requirement of going through the Larian hub. And remember, the Federation is gone. As my esteemed colleague said, nothing is shielding us."

Caitlin gestured at Quinn before she pressed her palms to the table. "We have a dire need for proper ships if we're ever to protect this fledgling coalition. We must deal with our greatest threat, not gamble on distant futures."

Nodding, Quinn stood up and greeted the crowd with a smile, "Everyone here knows I opposed this plan, but after working with Caitlin, I realize this is our only genuine option."

"What should we do first?" asked another nameless voice from the group.

Caitlin drew a sharp breath as she leaned forward. "We need to establish clear leadership so we can advance in a united fashion."

A murmur rolled through the chamber, hardening into a chant. Several seconds later, Caitlin and Quinn nodded when they recognized the demand.

"Create a triumvirate...

Halfway down the street, someone emerged from a crossing path and stepped in front of Ramas, forcing the wanderer to stop. Prior to scanning the area, the stranger leaned in so closely that Ramas could discern the man’s last meal. “What kept you?”

Ramas’s shoulders relaxed as he identified his mark upon the newcomer. With an obscured smile, his hooded eyes soaked in everything despite their deformity. “I’m not that late, Jandar.” Ramas inched closer as he ran his thumb across his lips as he lowered his gaze to the ground. “Besides, Emily’s soldiers are everywhere. In order to avoid them, I needed to take a circuitous route, which delayed my arrival slightly. However, I’m not exceedingly late.”

“I would have rather you had gotten here earlier than you did.”

“That’s a detail we can bicker about later.” Ramas reached out, grasping his informant’s shirt as his head bobbed. “For now, let’s focus on the actual issue, Emily’s soldiers. Is their presence here an abnormality? Or does she truly enjoy the support she’s apparently receiving in this section of the continent?”

“We cannot talk out here,” Jandar said, grabbing Ramas’s arm. With a gentle tug, he retreated down the side path, dragging the wanderer behind him. Every time Ramas pressed about their destination, Jandar would raise a finger, forestalling the discussion. After the third silent rebuke, Ramas resigned himself to following his informant on their own circuitous path through the city. After what felt like hours, Jandar pulled up beside a secluded and unkempt building. His head whipped about as he reached for the door’s handle. “Once we’re inside, we’ll have ample privacy for our inflammatory discussion.”

Ramas tugged his hood as he stared at the establishment’s wall. With his altered sight, the solid structure was nothing more than lightly packed sand suspended in glass, letting him make out the collections of stars just beyond the barrier. His fists clenched as he silently ground his teeth. When his gaze shifted back to Jandar, the similar cluster beside him confirmed the ambush. With a groan, Ramas freed himself from Jandar’s grasp. “Why did we have to come here?”

“Emily has many spies,” Jandar said, opening the building’s door and ushering Ramas inside. “Inside, we won’t have to worry about them. We can have candid conversations.”

Ramas released a pent-up breath as he sauntered into the doorway. He lingered in the opening for a couple of heartbeats before he thumped the frame. “Jandar, you’ve worked with me for many seasons. Must we talk inside?”

“You need to come inside so we can talk.”

“No,” Ramas said, unclenching his fists...

Declan looked up from the platform's glowing red center with dread pouring visibly from his face. "Brielle, we have a problem."

Brielle looked from the worried platform technician to the glowing red crystal next to his knees, and she began to take on his concern. "Declan, these platforms don't have issues."

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Declan looked up and explained, "There's only a single reason why the crystal glows red, and we all know what it is."

"Stay here, Declan," Brielle commanded as she nodded her head. She abruptly spun away from Declan and raced off towards the captain of the colonization ship.

She raced through the corridors as fast as she could, and she just managed to avoid all of the tight corners and the occasional colonist roaming the halls. She ran until she eventually came to the new colony's civic center. The captain always worked from there while they established a new world for the Federation.

Once she found the right doors, she paused outside so she could catch her breath. When she was able to breathe naturally, she opened the door, and her eyes immediately found the captain. She walked up to him and reported her dire news. "Captain Quinn, something has happened to the homeworld."

Confusion settled into the captain's face with her words prompting him to ask, "Brielle, what are you going on about?"

"The platform's crystal is glowing red, sir."

The captain's face went white as he began to process those words. He looked at Brielle and with great hesitation sought confirmation. "Red, you're sure?"

"Yes, sir," Brielle answered as she forced a lump down her throat.

Quinn lifted a hand and snapped a finger as he cried out, "Connor!"

A man poked his head into the room, saying, "Yes, sir?"

Quinn looked at the young man and commanded, "Get my portable communication pack, we need to raise homeworld."

"Yes, sir." the disembodied head replied.

"Connor, I wanted it here an hour ago understood?"

"Yes, sir." The man responded as his head disappeared, letting the door fall closed behind him.

Quinn looked at Brielle and tapped his fingers on his desk. She hesitantly watched his fingers as they continued their dance upon the wooden surface, but she slowly averted her gaze to his solemn and scared eyes. "Sir, has anything like this ever happened before?"

Quinn looked up and stared into her eyes as he answered, "No, no one has, but we all know what it means." He saw the unease behind her eyes, so he offered her what little comfort he could. "This could be a glitch on homeworld's platform. All we know is we cannot connect to this platform's twin back home. They could have taken it offline."

Before Brielle could say anything, the door flew open and Connor came in with the portable communication device placing it on the desk and stepping away, allowing Quinn access to the device. Quinn quickly configured the device to communicate with the homeworld and tried to connect. When the first attempt failed, he made other attempts, but each failed. Faltering Quinn attempted to connect to other worlds in the Federation. And with each failed attempt to contact other colonized planets, the fear behind Quinn's eyes grew.

Quinn looked between Connor and Brielle and spoke at them both, "Go fetch Caitlin and the other senior colonists. We'll need to come to a decision."

“Yes, we’re still here.”

Diana jostled Dyrk’s shoulder as she deactivated the comm. Narrowing her eyebrows, Diana tapped her armrest and sighed, “Were you expecting them not to be listening?”

He licked his lips and drummed his console as he winked at her. “I figured everyone manning control might be on a break.”

Diana slid forward and covered the microphone. “You’re aware we’re retracing the colonization vessel’s trajectory. And it vanished the moment it entered this atmosphere, right?”

“I’m aware of the history.” He peeled her hand from the comm before reactivating the system and clearing his throat. “We’ve located the remains of the colonization ship.”

“Any signs of survivors?”

Dyrk’s tongue ran across his lips as he scrolled through the results of the scans. “Wendell, I’m uploading a full copy of the report now. But while you’re waiting, I can describe the eclectic array of life on this rock for you.”

“Please do,” Wendell muttered.

Dyrk took a slow breath, refreshing his display. As the records flowed across the screen, a whistle leapt from his lips. “While there are plenty of creatures that look familiar and would have been brought with the colonization team, they’re outnumbered by the creatures I don’t recognize.”

Silence filled the spaceship’s cockpit, and just before it became uncomfortable, Wendell’s voice shattered it. “Repeat that.”

Dyrk rubbed his eyes and leaned toward the comm. “The majority of the lifeforms on the planet appear to have been plucked from popular fiction.”

“Excuse me?”

Dyrk pressed his back into his seat and folded his hands. “Are you aware of the fantasy novels that have been popular these days?”

“What about them?”

Dyrk flexed his fingers as he reached for the controls. “You’ll need a sampling of them to identify the more unusual creatures in the report.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

Dyrk shook his head and tapped the microphone. “Wendell, that’s not the strangest thing.”

“And what would that be?”

His fingers flicked to the bottom of the report as he gnawed his lip. He released a pent-up breath and tapped the screen. “We’ve performed multiple checks and keep getting the same results...

A wry chuckle emanated from his friend’s mouth as his cupped hands slid up to his chest. He peered at Sebastian while keeping his eyes on what he was holding. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“We’re taking a trip. What’s there to feal bad about?” Sebastian asked as he slapped the railing. He leaned against it and thumped Jimmy’s chest. “We’re about to enjoy a cruise. Can’t you relax?”

Jimmy opened his hands, revealing a frog. “I’m pretty sure this fellow is bad luck.”

Rolling his eyes, Sebastian rose and gripped Jimmy’s shoulder as he wiggled his finger over the animal. “What are you talking about!? It’s just a frog. You can’t provide for the thing. Why not release it?”

“It’s mine,” Jimmy said, pulling the frog away from Sebastian. “When I first grabbed it, I thought it was lucky. However, ever since, I’ve had nothing but a run of bad luck.”

“What are you babbling about now? It’s just a frog!”

“No sooner had I picked it up than a seagull nearly slammed into my head.”

“You grabbed the thing’s lunch,” Sebastian said, slapping his friend’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “What did you expect...

“Anton, stop making that awful racket!”

The sporadic notes stopped as Anton twisted his head and pushed against the railing. “Norman, the silence is eerie.” Anton marched across the deck and swatted the consol. “Why don’t you have a radio or satellite on this boat?”

“You weren’t hired to be entertained.” Norman released his grip on the yoke and pointed at an indention in the massive frozen cliff. “I enlisted you to assist me with my cargo. Besides, there aren’t many options available when you’re this far removed from civilization.”

“Whatever, Norman,” Anton said, waving his hand as he sauntered back to the rail, staring at the looming glaciers. “Can you explain why we fled the civilized world?” Anton chewed his lips as he wrapped his fingers around the metal bar. “Specifically, why you are steering us right into a hunk of ice.”

“We’re out here to dump my cargo in my decontamination facility.”

“Out here in a glacier?”

A dark smile spread while Norman throttled the ship’s engine. As the craft approached the icy wall, he spun the wheel, guiding the ship into the gap, plunging them into darkness. “Fortunately, out here the world’s pesky regulations don’t exist.”

Distant howls ripped through the tranquil atmosphere, chasing a shudder down Anton’s spine. With shallow breaths, his whitening fingertips dug into the boat. Closing his eyes, Anton took a few deep breaths and twirled his hand toward the star-filled sky. “It’s creepy navigating through all these massive chunks of ice. With the pale light, those cliff-faces look like giant gravestones.”

Norman turned off the engine and pulled a slender stick from the console. With a crack, a sickly green illumination leapt from the tube, chasing away the darkness. With a series of quick motions, Norman cracked another rod and tossed it on the approaching dock. Norman sauntered to the bow and twisted a section of rope off the cleat. When the vessel crept alongside the small metal wharf, Norman hopped on, securing his craft. “Privacy, is as precious as gold in most cases.”

Caleb lifted the other end and grunted. "You'd think looming devastation might revive Tarian's mind."

"That's enough, Caleb!" Keldon glanced over his shoulder as he hefted the slab of metal. With a slight stumble, he shot Caleb a wicked glare. "Lloyd's death hit him hard. I doubt anything will bring him out of his funk anytime soon. Now be careful, or I'll end up breaking my neck."

Caleb slowed as he shook his head. "It's remarkable those monsters haven't attacked yet."

"Be thankful for small favors." Keldon glanced over his shoulder as the beam fought his grasp. "Wayne, please assist us in getting this into position."

When the weight lessened, Keldon whipped around and found Tarian beside him. "Allow me to assist you. After all, you've helped me carry my burdens lately."

Keldon burst into laughter, but his foot caught on a rock, and he tumbled to the ground.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd lend you a hand, Keldon," Tarian said as his arms twitched. "But I trust you appreciate why I've refused to help out."

"Don't worry about it." Keldon propped himself up while he rubbed his heel. He staggered to his feet, waving at the crowd of people sealing the breach in the wall.

"Please take your time," Caleb said, sweat erupting from his brow. "It's so much fun holding up this slab of metal."

"I'll forgive you, Tarian." Keldon grabbed the beam and glared at the man across from him. "Caleb, it's good to know you're enjoying yourself. But how about we hurry up and seal that breach?"

"Funny," Caleb said as his eyes narrowed.

"Thank you for picking up the slack," Tarian said as the men resumed their march.

"Tarian, I'd be happy to have this conversation with you," Keldon started as he tightened his grip on the beam. "But can we wait until we've brought this over to Wayne's crew?"

"Sure," Tarian said...

While the massive creature stared at the field, the sun’s golden rays crested the distant mountains and raced toward the swaying plants, bathing them with their first meal of the day. With each passing moment, the din of the forest diminished. As the silence intensified, the bear rose to its hind legs while ripples washed over its body.

When the rippling ceased and the last of the dark fur receded, a stout man stepped closer to the flowers, running his hand through his thick hair. As the individual stood there, the chattering wind chipped away at the nascent stillness like a chisel striking a stone.

“Lander, why are you here?”

Without tearing his gaze from the ever-shifting lavender carpet, Lander reached up and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Neville, why are you bothering me?”

“You shouldn’t be here wasting your time.”

“Where should I be?”

“Preparing for the fight looming over us.”

The towering figure turned to Neville, his lips drawing into a harsh line. “Is there a problem with my separating myself from the inevitable maelstrom to bathe in the sight of something beautiful?”

The newcomer rushed forward, pinching the bridge of his nose before gripping Lander’s arm with rough fingers. “Nobody thinks you have to abandon things of beauty.”

“Then, before we rush into something terrible, stand here with me and appreciate this moment.”

“While I agree,” Neville said as his hand swept across the violet field, “that this is a stunning view. You have responsibilities that require your personal attention.”

Sucking his lip, Lander tapped Neville’s hand with a loose fist...

"I'm not sure what's out there, but it's been there since the sun came up," Keldon said, closing his eyes.

"Keldon, who's our best surviving sharpshooter?" Tarian's gaze turned ice cold as his lips curled into a snarl. "Bring that individual here and destroy that monster!"

Keldon lifted his telescope and studied the distant creature. When the scope lowered, he tapped it against the wall. "Given the recent attack, there's a significant chance it's a shapeshifter."

"Does it matter what it is?" Sherry stepped in front of Keldon, her hands on hips. "Tarian's right. One of our marksmen could end the threat."

"I'm more concerned with whatever's beyond our field of view." Keldon laid a hand on Tarian's shoulder, pulling him close. "That thing's the tip of the oncoming storm."

Sherry threaded her fingers through her hair as she stared at the creature. "Why are you trying to distract us from the simple solution?"

Keldon's fist slammed the wall as he glared at Sherry. "We're not in a position to defend ourselves from another assault."

Sherry blanched as she gripped her chest. "We're prepared for this kind of situation, right?"

"Unfortunately, Lloyd's dead." Tarian stepped up to the wall and examined the towering monster. With a hiss, Tarian spun around and leaned against the wall, collapsing to the floor. "Besides, a pair of shapeshifters tried to steal a significant amount of our ordnance...

“Can I take another minute?”

Shawn shook his head and thumped his desk, “You are out of time. I’ve already given you an extra thirty minutes, now give me your test, or I’ll be forced to reward your hard work with a zero.”

Zachary slipped his pen behind his ear with a groan and strolled up to Shawn’s desk. He dropped his exam next to the assignments his professor was correcting, “Thank you for giving me what you could. Do you have anything planned for the weekend, aside from grading those?”

Shawn grinned and lifted Zachary’s test and slipped it into a drawer. He locked it and propped his chin on a hand, “Normally I would grade these tests tonight. However, this time that’s a job for my teacher’s assistant, because I’ve got important plans for the weekend.”

“Did you finally find a new place?” Zachary looked around the lecture hall as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “Cause living in a university lecture hall is a little strange.”

Shawn’s fingers drummed on his desk while his other hand stabbed toward the door, “Run along, Zachary, and enjoy your weekend.”

“Bye, Professor,” Zachary retorted as he rushed to the exit. He walked out of the auditorium, bumping into a woman. The young man looked away and tipped his head, “I’m sorry, are you looking for Professor Tillman...

When he burst out of the building, Tarian dashed toward the depot. As he crossed the courtyard, a hand yanked him to a stop. Tarian reached back, grabbed the stranger and twisted his arm behind his back. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Lloyd said with a whimper, his face paling. He raised his free hand in surrender. "However, you rushing headlong into an unknown raid isn't one of your better ideas."

As Tarian relaxed his grip, he spun toward the armory as his hand flew to his side. He reached for his sidearm, but his fingers brushed an empty belt. A curse flew from his mouth as he whirled toward Lloyd. "Do you have a spare gun?"

"You're lucky you ran into me first." Lloyd drew a handgun and thrust it toward Tarian. "Next time the alarm blares, you might remember to secure your sidearm before you try to take on a mystery unarmed."

"That's enough," Tarian said as he took the weapon. After a brief check, he aimed the small firearm at the depot and inched forward.

"You shouldn't be the first to enter," Lloyd said, pulling Tarian's shoulder. With a few long strides, Lloyd pulled ahead of Tarian and placed an ear against the depot's door...

"About a click or two east of you. Have you found any signs of shapeshifters?"

Caleb moved a branch out of the way and studied the markings. "I may have, and I'd like a second opinion."

"Isn't Keldon leading a unit out here?" Engrim asked.

Caleb clicked his tongue, rising to examine the damaged branch. He turned to his squad, raising a finger to his lips. "He headed south the moment we departed the settlement. If we wait to get his thoughts, whatever left these marks will be long gone and out of reach."

"Fine, we're on our way."

Caleb tore his gaze from the tracks and scanned the foliage. "Something passed through here, and it's proving difficult to determine whether the trail was accidental or deliberate. Everyone, fall in on me. Keep your heads on a swivel and be alert. I don't want to frighten off whatever is watching us."

Mika tapped Caleb's shoulder as she cleared her throat. "Are we spreading out?"

"Yes, though stay in sight." Caleb leveled his rifle above the agitated foliage. "It shouldn't take Engrim's team long to get here."

Mika spun away from Caleb and stared into the forest's dense shadows. "And what information can you glean from the tracks?"

Caleb followed the markings...

As the snow clung to him, the man tugged the outer garment tighter about his neck and forced himself through the growing mounds. After walking for what felt like an eternity, the wanderer noticed a structure hugging the horizon, and his steps quickened. When he reached the building, his trembling hand brushed its rough stone.

A grin spread as his fingers traced the chiseled rock. He cocked his head, and his smile widened when he scanned the surrounding buildings. He ignored the blacksmith and the numerous merchant establishments. When his eyes landed upon the inn, he dashed toward its entrance and yanked in vain. With a grimace, the wanderer slammed his fist against the sturdy wood. “Is anyone there!”

The entrance groaned, revealing an intense gaze through the opening. “There aren’t any rooms available. You must look elsewhere.”

“Please,” the wanderer cried as he wedged his foot into the opening. “No one could survive this snowstorm.”

“I cannot allow you to enter,” the innkeeper replied.

The man pulled a stone from his pack, flashing the brilliant green gem to the owner. “I can pay.”

The innkeeper shook his head as he shoved the door. “Money isn’t the problem. This storm comes every year, and my storeroom isn’t endless. I can’t provide for you without harming my existing patrons, considering that jewel won’t fill a single belly...

Francis stepped away from his work and glanced around the room at his colleagues. When he saw everyone else glance elsewhere, he cleared his throat. “We’ve found nothing definitive.”

Tarian’s fist clenched as he looked at each of the scientists. When his gaze fell back on Francis, he licked his lips. “You’ve had this body for a week. Keldon told you I needed answers.”

“He did,” Francis hedged.

“Then why have you been dragging your heels?” Tarian inquired as he took a step towards Francis. While Tarian loomed over the scientist, he prodded the corpse’s abdomen and his finger slid into the creature. With a shudder, he pulled it out. “Rotting or not, I need answers.”

“If our most sensitive equipment still worked, we’d have given you the intelligence already.” Francis wrung his hands, avoiding Tarian’s glare.

Tarian wiped the frustration off his face as he backed up, licking his lips. “We don’t have that luxury.”

Francis’s gaze drifted toward Tarian, the corner of his eye twitching as he tugged his collar. “Well, we triggered its flesh into changing.”

“How?”

“What we might’ve seen was nothing more than a twitch...

The messenger’s hands trembled behind his back as his stoic face locked onto the King’s ornate chair. He bowed, spreading his arms like a bird in flight. “I wasn’t there to witness the results, sire. I carried only the message I was dispatched with. Do you want me to discover the fallout of the surrender?”

“No, there’s nothing you can accomplish,” the King grumbled as he crumpled the missive in his fist. He flung the wadded paper at the messenger’s face. “Kameron will locate these traitors!”

The messenger ducked the parchment projectile, while an advisor sitting close to the King interlaced her fingers and cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, I believe it would be best to collect any information that Baxter has before deciding on how to deal with these deserters. Consider the cost of dispatching another battalion to a captured keep.”

The King’s eyes narrowed as his lips trembled. He lifted his fingers from the ornately inlaid armrest of his throne, glancing toward the ceiling, as if the spymaster could overhear him. “Baxter is troublesome enough during peaceful times. But when it comes to war, his riddles are unbearable.”

“Baxter is unique.” The advisor smiled and leaned toward the King. “But he’s the best spymaster we’ve ever had.”

“I’m aware, Kerri!” Namen struck his chair with both meaty fists. “But I won’t deal with him if he’s communicating with his spies. Go discover everything he’s learned about these rebels and traitors.”

Kerri rose, inclining her head, and flowed across the floor. She grabbed the messenger’s arm and guided him from the meeting hall. When the door closed, she spun the fool around and slapped his face. “Why did you deliver that message straight to Namen?”

“It’s my job. Last I checked, you’re just an advisor, with no authority.” The messenger’s gaze sharpened to a knife’s edge as his fingers explored his reddening cheek. After a moment, he shoved his hands behind his back. “How would Namen react if he learned you struck one of his messengers? I believe he’s ordered protection for those carrying his commands.”

“True,” Kerri flicked the messenger’s nose as her lips parted, displaying her canines. She thumped his chest with two fingers. “Unfortunately for you, Namen never gave you the protection of a command. Never forget who your friends are, messenger.”

Kerri spun on her heels and stormed down the hall. When she reached the nearest stairwell, she sighed and flew up the stairs.

Upon reaching the door to the roof, she flung it open and stared at the man standing on the ledge, obscured by flapping butterflies, wings etched with heavy secrets, their markings whispering burdens. One landed atop an outstretched fingertip. He pulled it to his ear. She cleared her throat and marched toward him. “Baxter, I need your counsel...

Between strikes, the door swung inward. Keldon stepped inside, eyeing his friend’s assault on the ruined furniture before letting out a sigh. Tarian drove the blade into the wood again, and Keldon claimed an empty seat. He waited for his friend to stop, but the knife didn’t cease. He cleared his throat as he leaned toward his friend. “If everything were normal, I wouldn’t butt into your affairs.”

“Why are you starting the habit?” Tarian asked as he drove the dagger into the table.

Keldon lifted two fingers. “Two reasons. First, sitting here and wallowing over what’s happened for weeks isn’t healthy...

When the doors slid apart, Glen noticed a man and a woman inside. He waited for a moment, but neither moved to escape the confines, so he sauntered inside. Glen glanced at the floor buttons, realizing that only the ground floor one glowed. He smiled as he took a position near the rear of the car, to wait for the doors to close and the car to resume its trip towards the lobby.

Two floors later, the elevator stopped. When the doors slid apart, Glen glanced up, seeing a man glide into the car. He flashed the newcomer a polite smile. The stranger returned the gesture before spinning about to obscure his face. Glen shrugged, slouched to the wall, and waited for the elevator to resume its march. As the car descended, the new figure pulled something out of his jacket and flicked his wrist. The little tube in his hand extended, and his arm flicked like a whip, smashing the video camera.

After disarming the security’s eyes, he spun towards the other man, his lips curled into a snarl. “Kent, I want the key!”

“You can’t have it, Jon.” The last figure in the elevator backed into its far corner, wrapping his arms around his suitcase as if it were a diamond. “Please don’t do this.”

However, Jon ignored Kent’s plea and struck his arm with the baton. When the rod hit Kent’s shoulder, both he and the woman screamed. Jon turned towards a stunned Glen and the woman, his eyes burning with rage. “If either of you wants to walk away from this, mind your own business...

The dwarf's scowl deepened as he glared at Variel. He ran his tongue across his lips before downing his mug. Fitik's fingers clenched the tankard until it cracked in his grip. He looked between them. "No. Caleb is no liar, and neither am I. That mark disgraces us both."

Variel pointed at the incriminating paper. "Then explain your signature!"

Fitik leapt to his feet and banged his fists on the table, cracking the wooden slab. Armed men rushed into the small hall, weapons bared. Tarian raised his hand, stopping them in their tracks. He kept his attention on Fitik as he addressed them. "We're fine. Return to your posts."

"Are you sure?" Keldon asked as he lowered his rifle.

"Leave us, Kel!" When the door closed, Tarian lifted the sheet of paper and rounded the cracked table. "Fitik, can you agree this raises questions?"

"It's as suspicious as Variel possessing the antidote to that creature!"

"We created the remedy after finding the beast." Variel's hand drifted to Tarian. "The tonic saved Keldon's life, not to mention yours, Fitik. Though that coincidence isn't as curious as the missive holding your signature...

Jonathan tried to get the man off him as he replied, “Curtis, what happened to you was your own fault.”

“No, you ratted me out, Jonathan!”

“You stole from the company!” Jonathan said as he dislodged from his co-worker’s grasp. “This is all your fault.”

“You got me fired,” Curtis said as he peered through slitted eyes, “and I won’t forget it.”

Because of the commotion, a guard approached the two men, positioning himself behind Curtis, and said, “Do we have a problem, Mr. Reyes?”

“There’s no problem here. I was on my way out.” Curtis turned around with a sneer, shaking his head as if the man he’d been arguing with disgusted him. As he stomped away, Curtis turned his head and muttered loud enough for Jonathan alone to hear the threat. “You’ll pay for this, I promise you that.”

Jonathan ignored the implication of Curtis’s words, pretending they hadn’t unsettled him, and returned to his shift. The night work wasn’t glamorous, but he needed the money...

Derek coughed into his clenched fist. “Nobody else can see your hand signals.”

With a glance at Derek, Caleb’s mouth went dry as he stared into the dense woods, every breath tight with unease. He raised his radio and chirped, “Comms check.”

“Here,” Zeke’s voice echoed from the radio.

“So are we,” Mika’s response came a moment later.

Derek kneeled beside Caleb, examining their trail. When he couldn’t find anything, he tapped Caleb’s shoulder. “What are you expecting to find?”

Caleb exhaled slowly as he lowered his weapon. He leaned against the tree, rubbing his nose as he continued to study the foliage. With a grunt, he spun to look at Derek as he pulled the radio to his lips. “I want everyone to fall in on me, double time.”

“Roger that,” Engrim said smoothly.

“Copy,” Zeke said.

Derek arched backward as he sighed and climbed to his feet. He brushed his palm against rough bark as he passed another tree. With a cough, Derek pulled his canteen from his belt and took a long drink. With a sigh of satisfaction, Derek wiped his mouth as he stared into the thicket. “Caleb, I know you. Before they fall in, tell me what’s got you freaking out...

The sun revitalized the creature as a flock of birds circled above the walking tree. It lifted its boughs, and the songbirds weaved among its extremities. The treant smiled, its twigs spreading like fingers. A bird landed on the massive creature’s shoulder and tweeted. The being gently stroked the tiny bird, voice soft as moss. “How are you doing, little one?”

The creature’s wings flapped wildly as it jumped and drifted in front of the treant’s face. As it hung there, a cascade of fevered notes erupted from its beak.

“Calm down, little one.” The fevered song cut off, and the treant positioned a branch under the bird, letting it perch upon the limb. “This time, speak slowly and explain the problem from the beginning. Leave nothing out.”

As the songbird detailed its message, the flock descended beside it. When it finished, the treant’s face fell, then narrowed into a snarl, roots trembling beneath the soil. The living tree stomped out of the sunlight, and the birds clung tightly to its branches. “How many beings are attacking your homes, and my brethren...

The doctor wrapped his arms around his pad as he sighed. "The odds aren't good."

Tarian's brow knotted as he shut his eyes. "Spit it out, Dalton."

With another sigh, Dalton dropped the pad onto the bed and nudged Tarian's shoulder. "He's not going to make it."

"I want to find whatever did this to him." Tarian rounded the bed and grabbed the doctor's shirt, pulling him onto his toes. "Caleb, what do we know?"

"Nothing," Caleb said, pulling Tarian off the doctor. He patted his chest. "Keldon was the only member of his team to survive. And he never told us where they went." He paused, glancing down at the injured man. "Don't forget, the elves are the only reason he's here."

Tarian slumped into the nearest chair. "I need answers."

"Neither of us has any," Caleb said.

A thunderous clap tore through the infirmary as Tarian climbed to his feet. He pulled up right next to the doctor as his lips quivered. "Save his life."

Dalton glanced from Tarian to Keldon as he wiped his brow. "I'll do what I can...

Tarian shifted the telescope toward the rear and watched the dwarven axes cleave through the retreating remnants of the horde. Relief washed over his features as his shoulders slouched. “The elves and dwarves arrived just in time.”

Sherry’s fingers covered her lips as she stared out over their allies. “What do you think they’ll want from us?”

Lloyd glared at her as his fingers curled into fists. “The enemy crumbles under the elven arrows and dwarven blades.”

“That’s my point.” Sherry stepped toward Lloyd as her eyes narrowed. “Now we owe them. What are they going to demand from us?”

“Give me a break,” Lloyd said as he kicked some debris.

“This is serious,” Sherry said, her voice bordering on shrill. “I can’t be the only one afraid they’ll prove untrustworthy.”

Standing up from the crumbling wall, Tarian turned around, putting a hand on Lloyd’s and Sherry’s shoulder. “Sherry, we needed help, and they answered our call. Examine the battlefield. It’s taken all our collective power to eradicate this scourge.”

“Tarian, we can’t trust them,” Sherry said, her voice only a whisper.

“We don’t have the luxury to isolate ourselves,” Lloyd said, matching her tone...

Unfortunately, today, both children pushed the boundaries of their...

She eased the door open and followed the thread...

"Why are you here?" asked one creature, preparing to release his arrow...

Even the birds had stopped calling...

For the twins, the event held significance beyond simple escapism...

Keldon reached out, and Tarian handed the scope over to his friend. With a sigh...

Over the radio, Tarian's voice crackled with a mix of frustration and weariness. "Kel, during the last few months, we've dealt with everything from giant wolves to dragons...

Lucinda stepped beside Tarian and leaned against the same tree...

The pilot’s fingers tightened around the steering yoke as he inquired, “Aside from us being at war?”

“Their aircraft aren’t as advanced as ours, Erik,” she said, leaning into her seat. The young woman pulled her legs onto the edge of the chair, wrapping them up with her arms.

“True,” Erik hedged...

“I’m doing what you instructed me to do,” the young man said, rushing into the library...

Despite coming up empty, a bomb threat kept his investigation alive...

Come to the local museum. Tonight, by six, locate the trio of paintings featuring a mother and child, then settle onto the nearby couch.

Lucious glanced at his watch as he ran his fingers through his hair, ignoring the bald spot. “Fifteen minutes early.” He crushed the note, pocketed it, and sat down in the middle of the little nook...

A small man, walking stiffly trying not to spill his food, approached their booth...

“I am,” he replied as he broke her grip, “I was worried that you were going to be late.”

“It’s my birthday, and you didn’t wait outside for me. Just because you had your own ticket…” Jasmine teased with a grin. Her hand absently brushed against her pendant as she continued, “Now can we go watch our movie...

The driver’s window lowered, and he popped his head through the opening. “Are you aware of who I’m driving?”

Kyle tapped the packet against his forehead as his lips curled into a grin. “I trust Chase Heath is nestled in there.” He thrust the dossier toward the backside of the limousine. “I have important questions for him...

The lithe elf placed her finger on the picture, tracing the floors. Her head shook as she dismissed each room...

When she calmed her sorrowful eyes, Patricia lowered the book...