Cole stood in front of her, staring at her with his sad, brown eyes.

"Cole." She rushed forward to hug him, but her arms went through his body.

"You should have told me about your deal with the Polong," Cole said. "I deserve to know."

"I swear I wanted to tell you, but I just couldn't find the right occasion."

Excuses, the Polong said. You had every chance to tell him about our little pact.

She tuned out the Polong's voice. "I'm afraid the truth would overwhelm you. I-I couldn't."

"You lying to me is worse than Papa's death." Cole took a step forward. "Why can't you just tell me? You know I won't be mad at you."

"I'm just afraid you would leave me," she whispered. "Everybody I love is gone, I can't bear to lose you."

"Oh, Cady," her brother said. He stepped forward and dissipated into smoke.

Tears ran down her cheeks.

"Little one, wake up."

Cadence groaned and opened her eyes. She turned over to the brilliant sunlight pouring through the window.

"So, the human lives," the voice said.

Cadence sat up and scrambled for her daggers.

"Looking for these?" The Ancient waved her daggers in front of her face. He was pinching the hilts tentatively with two fingers on each hand.

"Give them back!"

"No," he said. "If I hand over the only things that can wound me, you'll cause me a headache, and I've just recovered from a terrible ordeal. Not interested in going through the drama again."

In the broad daylight, Cadence could see the Ancient as a whole. He looked different. He was less bestial, more human. His scales and talons were gone, his skin was now a smooth ebony, devoid of crystalline scales. The only Rakasha-looking feature that retained was the great pair of curved horns poking from his majestic black curls and his large wings. His bad wing had straightened out and was folded behind his back.

He turned to look at her, and her heart gave a sharp leap. His human face slapped Cadence in the heart—beautiful amethyst eyes, canines, and a smug smile. A tight shirt clung to his muscles. She tried to avert her eyes as she followed the shirt's trajectory right down to his breeches.

"The human likes what she sees, no?"

"No," she responded a bit too fast. The Ancient laughed in his handsome, baritone voice.

"Humans are all drawn to beautiful things. It's their nature, and it makes them easy to exploit."

"So says the one who almost got himself killed yesterday."

His smile wavered. "That was not my fault. Speaking of which, what are you doing here? Why the hulabaloo outside my woods?"

"I don't owe you an explanation."

The Ancient spun her daggers in her hands. "Seeing that you used my firewood, slept in my house and my bed, I think you do."

"I saved your life!"

"I did not ask you to save my life," the Ancient said. "You did it out of your own free will."

"Well, next time if I come across any of your kind, I'll be sure to kill them. Goodbye."

Cadence grabbed Ales' utility belt and lunged for her daggers. The Ancient held them above her reach and blocked her way with a wing.

"Why did you help me?" His voice no longer held the authority of a predator. Instead, it was filled with genuine curiosity.

Cadence glared at him. "Give me back my daggers."

"Answer the question and you can leave."

"Because a man helped me when I needed the most, although he had other motives." Cadence held out her hand to the Ancient.

"Little one has escaped the Right Order, hasn't she?" the Ancient said softly.

"Why do you care?"

"The robe, the Celestium daggers, the Dewa-given Affinity," he said. "You're not safe out there, Walker."

"You-" Cadence spluttered. "How-"

"The Ancients see what the Varya cannot. I find it strange that someone of your abilities is still alive and walking in the very place your kind is pursued."

"You asked me why I'm here, right?" Cadence said. "They're after me."

"I'm sorry you're born a Walker, little one," said the Ancient. "You have such a harsh journey ahead of you."

"It's really none of your business." She snatched the daggers from his hands. "Goodbye, whatever your name is."

Cadence tried to push past the Ancient, but he refused to budge.

"Zoroth," he said. "I'm Zoroth, seventh son of Aragor."

"Fancy," she snapped. "Will you please let me through? I don't want to stab you, seeing that I just patched you up."

"I heal fast." He shrugged.

"Someone really needs to cut down the size of your ego. I would be more than happy to help you." Hoping to catch him off guard, she made another lunge at the exit.

Zoroth grabbed her by the arm and held her in place. "Holy Valador, can you stop trying to shove past me for just a second?"

"What do you want?" she said, exasperated.

"You saved my life," said Zoroth. "A debt must always be repaid."

"You contradict your every sentence, you know that?"

"Name one thing and I shall grant you your wish."

Cadence stared at him. "Anything?"

"Well, apart from highly inappropriate sexual requests, bringing back the dead and unlimited gold, I shall try whatever it is that's in my powers as an Ancient."

She pretended she didn't hear his first example. "Do you know how to get to Eyria?"

"I do," he said. "In fact, my brother lives there. I would take you to pay him a visit, but Moriya hates humans."

"Escort me to Eyria and ensure my safety from Walker Hunters along the way. Then you can consider your debts paid."

Zoroth didn't even bat an eyelid. "Done. When are we leaving?"

"Now," Cadence said. "I need to leave this blasted place."

"By blasted place, I do hope you're referring to the Region of Games," Zoroth said, offended. "My home is not a blasted place."

Cadence ignored him. "Do you mind leaving the room?" She pulled at her bloodied robe. "I need to change."

"Are you implying-" he started to say, then noticed Cadence glaring at him. He shrugged and left the bedroom, muttering under his breath.

Cadence rolled her eyes and quickly changed. She cut the longer part of the shirt and rolled up the legs of the breeches so she wouldn't trip over them. After securing Ales' belt, checked her daggers and bundled up his cloak, she headed outside to find Zoroth staring out at the trees.

"I'm ready."

"Well, I'm not," Zoroth said. "Give me a moment to pack up."

"What?"

"You asked me to wait outside, I didn't have the time to pack." He strode inside and coughed 'silly human'.

"I heard that!"

He coughed again, much louder this time. 'Silly human.'

Cadence had always regarded Ancients with a little respect, since they're the higher forms of Rakasha, but Zoroth changed her mind entirely. They were just talking Rakasha with a terrible sense of humor.

Zoroth emerged a good fifteen minutes later with a large tattered sack tied shut with a rope which he slung over his shoulders.

"Done."

"Aren't you going to do something about the..." Cadence made a horn gesture above her head.

"What do you assume I am? I'm an Ancient, not some shape-shifting fairy."

"I'm pretty sure you had scales last night." Cadence pointed out.

Zoroth snorted. "I can only assume two forms—my human form and my natural form. This-" he gestured at his body. "-is the closest thing I can get to pass as a human."

"You can't just walk out in the open with horns and wings," Cadence said. "Do you want to be shot full of arrows again?"

"I'm not ignorant, little one." Zoroth dropped his sack, rummaged through it and produced an overlarge straw hat with a layer of muslin falling over the round edge. It had one thin opening where the ends of the muslin met, and the length of the muslin reached his chest.

"You're going to wear that?" She watched in disbelief as the Ancient put it on. The hat covered his horns, although it pulled the sides taut. The white muslin fell over his face, covering his amethyst eyes and fangs.

"See?" Although Cadence couldn't see his face, she was certain there was a triumphant smile underneath the hat.

"As for my ever so majestic wings." He drew out a dark, tattered cloak from his rucksack and flung it around his shoulders.

"You should have worn that when you were out last night."

"I wasn't prepared for a group of screaming Varya outside the forest. Good thing they thought I was common Rakasha and did not bother chasing me down after shooting me full of arrows. Basically, it's your fault I got injured."

"You're impossible."

"At least I don't have a face problem," Zoroth said. "What about your disguise? If you're interested, the disguise I'm wearing is the Eyrian pilgrim costume. Kesatria will avoid us like the plague, you'll be safe."

"Please don't tell me you have a spare hat."

"As a matter of fact, I do." Zoroth produced a similar hat and slapped it over Cadence's head. It slipped over Cadence's face and blocked her sight.

Zoroth took one look at her and laughed. "You look ridiculous."

"Yeah." Cadence took off the hat. "Thanks a lot."

"Since your human head is too small for the hat, you're on your own to come up with your disguise."

Cadence showed him the cloth she had cut off her shirt.

"Hey, that's my shirt," Zoroth said.

"I know." She wrapped the cloth around her face, Eyrian style. Half of Eyria was a burning desert, hence most of them wore face-scarves or veils when trekking through. "You're an Eyrian pilgrim, I'm an Eyrian citizen, and we're heading back to Eyria. Perfect."

Zoroth huffed. "Right. You destroyed my shirt without permission."

Cadence drew Ales' coin pouch and pressed a Moon into his palm. "There, we're even now."

The Ancient drew back the muslin, sniffed the coin, then bit it. "I have no use for human currency."

"Just keep it. You might want it to buy another hat."

"Brilliant idea," he said happily. "In fact, this is the most brilliant thing you've said the entire morning."

Zoroth swung the door shut and stepped into the forest, signaling at Cadence to follow him.

"How do we plan to sneak past the Walker Hunters?" she said, hurrying after him. "They're everywhere."

"Just keep your mouth shut and don't look suspicious." Zoroth bent down and retrieved a large stick from the ground. He brushed off the wet earth clumped onto the stick and pulled out a couple rusty bells from his sack.

"You're going to announce our presence to everyone!" Cadence watched in horror as Zoroth tied the bells to the top of the stick and shook it vigorously.

"I call it hiding in plain sight," he said. "There's nothing disreputable about a pilgrim traveling with his daughter. The bells show others that the pilgrim has successfully completed their spiritual journey. They go without bells and return with two bells—one each for their Zhun and Shen. There are many reasons why you should learn about other cultures. When you step foot into Eyria, everything would be different. They're wild people, and they do not adhere to Moskava's culture and norms. You'll have to be careful."

Cadence walked closely beside Zoroth who faked a limp the moment the trees cleared. The road leading to the Region of Elements was empty. If they wanted to get to Eyria, they have to pass the Region of Elements first, then head east through the Region of Warriors before they would arrive at the wall that separated the two nations. She estimated it would take them close to two weeks if they went on foot, less than one week if they went by horseback or carriage. She could buy a couple horses with her Celestium shards, but she doubted Zoroth would want to ride, given his monstrous size. He would crush the poor horse.

The next village they went through was a small one. The streets were still cluttered with Ishor festivities, the season lasted for a week. Everyone gave them a wide berth, Cadence couldn't blame them. Zoroth was a towering sight. His wings gave off the impression of a hunchback with a menacing-looking staff. Then, there was her—a small girl shrouded in white cloth and wearing overlarge clothes.

No one blocked their path or forbade them from crossing the village.

Cadence clung onto Zoroth to prevent herself from losing him in the crowd. Men and women thronged past her, yelling their wares. Someone shook a ring of garlic in her face.

"Protection from evil spirits, lovely!" the man shouted. "Me betcha Eyria's full of em, best get the warding now!"

Another pressed a rabbit's paw into Zoroth's hand who shook it off at once. "For good luck!" the woman professed. "Pure sorcery from Lady Ankana herself!"

"Lady Ankana my foot," Zoroth muttered, steering Cadence from being drowned by the ever-growing mass of crowing merchants. "I'll be damned if a rabbit's foot can make me lucky."

"I thought you said this disguise would make people leave us alone?" Cadence said, relieved to see the crowd grow thinner as they reached the gates.

"Correction, I said Kesatria, not the average person. These villages would do anything to get even the smallest coin while Kesatria know very well that Eyria does not like their pilgrims being disturbed by the Moskavan authorities. The relationship between Eyria and Moskava has already been stretched to the point of breaking. Kesatria do not want to incite any more problems that would cause both nations to war."

"You seem to know a lot about human affairs."

"I'm old, little one," Zoroth said. "I've lived through the ages when Walkers still populated the lands, when some of the greatest Houses of Moskava have yet to crumble."

"My name is Cadence," she said. "I'm not little."

"You are little compared to me," the Ancient led her up a small hill. "By age, by size, and by wisdom."

And by ego, she wanted to add but didn't want to ignite another argument.

Cadence saw several dark specks draw clearer as they approached the village gates. She froze. She could recognized those red cloaks anywhere.

"Hunters," she whispered. "Up there."

Zoroth spat. "Once I've deposited you in Eyria, I'm going to put so many arrows into them there won't be a spare inch of flesh."

Zoroth's limp exaggerated once they reached the gates. Cadence kept her eyes downcast, not wanting to risk recognition.

One of the Hunters stopped them.

"Have you seen this girl?" She shoved a portrait of Cadence into Zoroth's face.

"Shu ba?" Zoroth said in a very rough voice. "No Moskava. Jing Ara?"

Cadence didn't know Zoroth spoke Eyrianese. As the Hunter continued shouting at Zoroth in Moskavan, Zoroth replied in smooth, slow Eyrianese. He spoke it like a native with absolutely no hints of the Moskavan accent, playing perfectly with the lilted "r's" and the nasal sounds.

"Pilgrims." The woman gave up. "They probably know nothing except to kiss the feet of their stone gods."

"Vomen shi hoshang," Zoroth groused.

"Let them pass before they report us to their Kuan," her associate said. "We're not here for another war, we just want the Walker."

"Wan xie," Zoroth said, then drew a symbol in front of the female Hunter. He held Cadence's hand and walked her through the gate, being very careful to remind the Hunters of his limp.

Once the Hunters were out of earshot, Cadence finally remembered to breathe.

"That was close," she said. "They even have posters of me."

"I have to say," Zoroth switched back to Moskavan. "The you in the posters are much prettier."

"Wow, thank you so much," Cadence said.

"You're welcome." The Ancient adjusted his ridiculous hat. "We should be able to hit another village by dusk if we keep up our current pace."

"I can buy us horses, but do you ride?"

Zoroth patted his chest. "Why would I ride when I can fly?"

"Yes, but you can't fly in broad daylight. The sooner we reach Eyria, the sooner we can part."

"You seem very eager to dispose of me, little one."

"Because you're grating on my nerves. I have more important things to consider than the feelings of a cocky Ancient."

"You think I'm cocky?" said Zoroth. "Oh well. If you can find a horse that's large enough to accommodate my size, I won't complain."

"There's a village, right? We can try our luck there."

They walked down the deserted path in silence after that. Cadence counted the steps they took in their monotonous march. Three hundred and sixty-five, three hundred and sixty-six, three hundred and sixty-seven. Zoroth walked at a pace which Cadence could catch up without having to jog, which meant small steps for him.

One thousand and seventy-five, one thousand and seventy-six.

Zoroth's silence was beginning to feel unnerving.

"I'm sorry," she broke the silence. "I shouldn't have called you cocky."

"No offense taken, little one," Zoroth said. "My brothers all called me cocky, especially Moriya. He's the oldest of all my siblings and has a very fragile temper. Even a simple snarky remark can set him off, you wouldn't like to see him when he's angry. Then again, he's furious all the time."

Cadence recalled Zoroth mentioning that name earlier, but it sounded very familiar to her. She had heard it somewhere before.

"As in Moriya, friend of Varis?"

"How did you come by that information?" Zoroth swung his head at her direction, muslin flapping. "Moriya is far older than I am. You surely cannot know Varis. He was killed before you were born."

"It doesn't matter," Cadence said, taken aback by the urgency in Zoroth's voice. "Just a question."

"Varis was the lover of an old friend of mine. She was-"

"-Capella Yesuntai," they said at the same time.

"Capella was Moriya's Yazelka, but when Capella died, Moriya crawled into his lair and has never left since. I'm certain the history books never mentioned this, for they were eager to banish whatever that remains of Walker heritage from existing. Tell me how you found out about Varis, Moriya, and Capella, Cadence, or I shall force it out of you."

"I don't see why this matters to you. They're all dead now."

Zoroth suddenly grabbed Cadence by the shoulders and shook her, a deep growl rattling from his throat.

"They matter to me." He snarled. "They're family. They're everything I ever knew, I ever owned and loved, and they're dead. Surely you're not some petty Invoker spy sent to retrieve information from the Ancients? Or worse, you're a Walker working with the Walker Hunters. I've seen people sink that low before, and I'm certain you can be no different."

Zoroth growled again. The muslin fluttered, revealing his bared fangs.

"I-I have dreams about the Great War," she stammered. "I know that they're messages, but I don't know who is sending them. A