“What?” Harker stared at the fallen weapon. 

“Untie her, now.” The fear in Mark’s voice had Harker scrambling to untie me. 

Slipping my hands free, I grabbed my polearm.

Mark backed away until he was standing by the ladder at the end of the tunnel. Breathing heavily, he raised his hands in surrender. “Please, forgive us. We were ignorant.”

“Sure…” I looked at Harker’s glow ball. “Can I have that?”

“Give it to her,” Mark insisted. 

Harker gave me the glow ball before skittering back toward the ladder. Lowering his voice, he asked, “What the hell did you see in that Interface?”

Thyr and the bug lady looked similarly worried, but it was hard to tell on such inhuman faces. Part of me wanted to take the ball and go before Mark could change his mind, but curiosity got the better of me. 

“What’s an Interface? I mean, I know the definition of ‘interface,’ but I’ve never seen one on a murder doughnut, so…?”

A strangled laugh escaped Mark. “Would you like me to demonstrate your weapon’s Interface, Ortai Shiel?”

Everyone froze at the sound of my last name. Harker’s four knees trembled. The bug lady’s wings stiffened. Thyr hunched, looking very much like he wanted to curl in a defensive ball. 

“Uh, sure. Demonstrate.” I held out my polearm. “Why’s everyone freaking out?”

Another strange, almost crazed, laugh escaped Mark as he shuffled closer. “Forgive us, Lady Ortai, but none of us have ever met one of your kind. The surprise is… difficult to handle.” He cautiously touched the polearm’s doughnut. “R-run your finger around the inside edge, and the Interface will appear.”

“Uh huh.” I hesitated. “What’s an Ortai?”

His eyes widened. “Is that not the correct form of address? I would gladly use any form you prefer, but I’m afraid ‘Ortai’ is the only one I’m aware of.”

“That’s really not what I asked.”

His feathers were slick against his scalp, and his head looked much smaller because of it. He pressed himself against the wall with his hands raised. “Forgive me, I misunderstood. You wish to assert what I know of your kind? I- I can comply. Forgive me if what I say is inaccurate; I only know what I’ve read, and no one has seen one of your kind in centuries, so what I’ve read may be out of date.”

Apparently sensing my impatience, he hurried to say, “I only mention it to clarify that I mean no offense if anything I say is inaccurate.”

“Got it. What’s an Ortai?”

He shivered. “As I understand it, Ortai are immortal beings of pure arka who sometimes deign to assume flesh bodies to better communicate with us mortals.”

“Cool.” I ran my finger around the inside of the murder doughnut. A black disk appeared inside the ring. Glowing white words displayed my name at the top: “Liza Shiel.” That was weird because my name was actually “Liza Shiel-Smith,” but I had to agree that “Liza Shiel” was cooler. Something like “Alizara Shiel” would’ve been even cooler. Not that the Interface seemed interested in making me look cool—it said I was only a Level 1 Ortai.

“I hate to-” Mark swallowed. “-to intrude, but might I inquire as to your intentions, Lady Ortai?”

“I was going to go exploring, but this whole Ortai thing sounds cooler. So, what powers do I get?”

“Pardon?”

“If I’m this pure arka thing, I should have powers, right?”

“I believe so, but I’m afraid I have no way of knowing what specific powers you have. The legends regarding you are vague-”

“There are legends about me?”

He ducked his head. “A few. You have always been secretive, but you are well-known among my kind for your choice of knights. We appreciate your confidence in us, and I will serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“What, as a knight?”

“Yes, Lady Ortai.”

The others inhaled sharply. None of them looked happy, but the bug lady looked absolutely furious. She flew within arm’s reach and hovered with the noise of a thousand bees. 

“Wait a blink. You can’t take him, just like that. You’re supposed to-”

Mark silenced her with a hiss. “My family has an agreement with Ortai Shiel. One of us must always serve at her side when she calls, and she has been calling me for months. It is a miracle she has shown me mercy. She has every right to strike me down for not acknowledging her earlier.”

“But-” When he tried to grab her, she flitted out of his reach. “You can’t seriously think this is Ortai Shiel. She never appeared as a human, and she never acted like a madwoman. This- this lunatic is clearly a fake. I’d bet money on her being a mimic from the dungeon.”

He shot her a glare that she ignored. “She’s been contacting me since my twentieth birthday—the age of service. How do you explain that?”

“Fine, then she’s not a mimic, just a crazy arkan.” 

“What’s an arkan?” I piped in. 

They both froze. 

The bug lady dipped in the air before buzzing furiously to regain altitude. “See? No Ortai would ask such stupid questions.” 

Mark hesitantly met my gaze. “An arkan is someone who uses arka to perform magic. Again, please forgive my companion for her ignorance. If you cannot forgive her, please at least lessen her punishment.” To the bug lady, he added, “Shut up and allow Ortai Shiel to test my knowledge as she wishes.”

She threw her arms up. “If she was testing your knowledge, she’d ask something hard, not ‘what’s an arkan?’” She sneered at me. “A two year old knows what an arkan is. She must be a nitwit or a madwoman.” 

I had half a mind to swat her out of the air with my murder doughnut, but I knew that would probably upset Mark a lot. Would it be worth it? Maybe, maybe not. Leaving was probably the better option. I turned toward the dark part of the tunnel and started walking. 

“Would you like me to accompany you?” Mark asked. 

“Yep. Leave the bug lady, though. She’s ticking me off.” 

“‘Bug lady?’” she screeched, zipping around me to block the tunnel. Each of her four hands held a knife. She blurred toward me in a stream of shadow. Cold metal pressed against my throat before I could even flinch. “Kill me, Goddess. Strike me dead for treason against the great Ortai Shiel. Do it, or I’ll cut your throat.”

The way she was hovering, it was a miracle she managed to hold the knives against my throat without cutting me. Actually, she was completely frozen; her wings had even stopped beating.

“Are you suicidal?” Mark’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “She’s been merciful. Don’t push her.”

“It’s not mercy if she’s too weak to do anything. Look at her. Even a competent human arkan could push me away, but she hasn’t done anything.” She flicked a knife to cut my cheek. 

I flinched, and my throat stung. Mark couldn’t move faster than her knives. I needed to do something to show her I wasn’t weak. My Interface caught my eye. It said something about the weapon’s capabilities, its Skills. Yes, there it was-

Weapon Skills

LVL 1: Pulse 

• Activation: Vocalize “Etav” while holding weapon dual-handed

• Effect: Void arka pulse

• Cost: 100 valts of Void arka 

• Current Arka: 120 valts

• Cooldown: 1 myriblink

That was pretty self-explanatory, except for the weird units. I hoped the Skill was cooler than it sounded, or it would just further convince the bug lady that she was right. 

I slowly placed my second hand on the weapon’s pole. 

“You think you can cut me faster than I can slit your throat, human? Just try it. I’d love to-”

“Etav.”

As soon as my lips began to move, Mark dove at me. He tackled me to the floor, slamming my head against the stone. Spots danced across my vision as black ribbons exploded from the polearm’s ring. They were beautiful, like strips of galaxy dotted with stars and violet trails of space dust. 

As they cleared, Mark got to his hands and knees. His robes were full of holes, but he didn’t seem injured. That was a weird Skill. Why’d he bother tackling me if it was just going to burn off the bug lady’s clothes? Maybe he hadn’t known. Maybe he was trying to protect her modesty. Or maybe leather armor for a bug person was expensive? That kind of made sense. 

“Please-” Mark’s voice was desperate, shaking as much as he was. “Please spare her. I swear on my life, she won’t say another word against you.”

“Are you sure she-” My head spun as I tried to sit up. A sharp hunger burned in my chest. I had to lean against the wall to sit without falling over.

The bug lady was on the ground, spreading a cream on her arms. Her black chitin was cracked on her hands and feet, revealing tan-gray flesh beneath. Her wings were shredded. Had I done that? Surely not. Mark was a lot closer, and he looked fine. 

“What happened to her?”

Mark grabbed my shoulders. “I beg of you, let that be enough. She won’t fly for a week. The pain of her burns will remind her to hold back her tongue and daggers. Please, let her keep her life.”

“Sure.”

“Sure?” He raised his head to stare at me with obvious bewilderment. “You’ll let her live?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t trying to kill her. I don’t plan to start now.” 

Something flashed through his expression faster than I could read it. His grip on my shoulders tightened. “Far be it from me to correct an Ortai, but you must know pure arka is lethal to us at short range?”

“Oh, I didn’t know.” My chest panged. It was silly to miss a figment of my imagination, but I really did like him. “How long do you have?”

“Until what, Lady Ortai?”

“You said it’s lethal. Don’t you know how long it’ll take to kill you?”

He took a shaky breath. “I’m a shifter, Lady Ortai. My resistance to arka is much higher than a nix’s. I will be fine.”

“That’s great! So, exploring time?” 

“If you wish.” He let go of me and stood. 

I pulled my legs beneath me, but they refused to straighten. Leaning on the wall and my polearm, I managed to lift myself a little before pitching forward. The polearm slipped from my hand. Its Interface displayed a red triangle around the words “Warning: Arka Levels at 20 valts.”

Mark was in front of me in a flash, shielding the nix from view. “What is it, Lady Ortai?”

I shook my head, which only sent everything spinning. Nausea overwhelmed hunger, and I scrunched my eyes closed. “The- the Interface says I’ve got low-” What was it again? I cracked an eye open. “-arka.”

“How low?”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty thousand?”

I snorted. “No, twenty. Two-zero.” 

“Prip, why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you spend so much arka on a nuisance?”

I squinted at him. “How ‘bout I stick you with four pointy things and see if you think it’s a- a noo- an annoying thing. Hey, you shouldn’t call your friend a- whatever you said. That’s rude.”

He blinked. “You’re an Ortai. Surely, unenchanted knives couldn’t harm you?”

I tried to poke his forehead and nearly poked his eye before he jerked back. “Use your head, dufus. Or eyes. You know what I am. Human.”

“You can’t be-”

“Why you all gotta tell me what I can and can’t be?”

He looked too stunned to speak, and his centaur companion interjected. 

“The Interface has to be a fake. She can’t be Shiel, so she must be human.”

“Do you see any illusion enchantments?”

“No, but they would be hidden.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “How do you explain her surviving an arka blast from point-blank range?”

“There must be a concealed shield in her weapon.”

He shook his head. “I would’ve felt a shield if she were using one. I might think she was a shifter, but her insides don’t feel like one.”

“How you know what my insides feel like?” I poked his arm. 

He gave me an uneasy look. “A discussion for another time.” Grabbing my weapon, he hooked an arm under mine and pulled me to my feet. “Come, you can rest in the wagon. You’ll feel better once your arka is replenished.” He helped me stumble toward the ladder. 

Harker went behind us and murmured, “I’ll help you up.”

“Thanks.” The nix sounded sarcastic.

Ahead of us, Thyr started climbing the ladder. 

I remembered something. “Hey, whatcha gonna do about the angry elephant?” 

Mark frowned but didn’t stop walking. “What is an elephant?”

Come on, even if they weren’t able to read my mind, they had to know what an elephant was. This was just silly. “It’s like a really big, wrinkly pig with a vacuum hose for a nose.”

“Mmhmm, and you see one of those here?”

I shook my head. “I’m not crazy. It’s upstairs. Chased me in here. That’s why I fell.” 

Thyr stopped on the ladder and looked over his shoulder. “There aren’t elephants outside.”

I stuck my tongue out. “Maybe it was something else. I didn’t see it too good. But it’s big as an elephant, and it’s naked.”

Mark gave me a funny look. “Assuming you mean ‘hairless,’ that was likely a katsith. They fear bright light, so scaring it away should be easy enough.” 

“That’s good.” Though, I seemed to have misplaced the glow ball. I must’ve dropped it when Mark tackled me. Since the light was following us, Harker or the nix must’ve picked it up. 

We stopped at the end of the hallway, and Harker unhooked a relatively short staff from a set of saddlebags. He tapped it on the ground.

“Kotal ipe spigren.” 

Huge blades of grass popped out of the ground and wove a platform large enough for the four of us. When we stepped on, Harker said, “Sklon spigren.”

The platform lifted us to the top of the shaft. Harker went out first with his glow orb hovering in front of him and the nix sitting on his back. His orb brightened until it was blinding. I ducked my head as Mark helped me shuffle after Thyr. 

There was no trace of the katsith besides trampled grass. With Harker in the lead, we walked around the hill we’d emerged from. A covered wagon waited. Nearby, a large animal stalked through the grass. It raised its feather-crested head to hoot at us. No one seemed bothered when it trotted over to Harker. 

Black—or maybe dark blue—on top, the creature had a snow white underbelly. It moved on two legs, bounding like an ostrich, and held smaller forelimbs close to its chest. The feathers continued down its spine and long tail but nowhere else. Folded bat-like wings rested against its sides. When it reached Harker, it cooed and snapped its beak. He stroked the creature’s scaly neck. In the light, I noticed light blue and white speckles among its dark scales. The creature gave me the impression of a friendly velociraptor crossed with a penguin. 

“Good girl,” Harker murmured as he moved to the wagon. He hooked her up to the front and retrieved a chunk of meat from inside the wagon. The animal snatched it out of his hand and swallowed it whole before cooing again. 

Mark led me to the back of the wagon and hoisted me up. I fell to my hands and knees before he could climb in after me. He helped me onto a wooden box, which was the closest thing to a chair in the wagon. 

Thyr came in next, holding the nix. Both of them sat in the front of the wagon on other boxes, as far from me as possible. Mark hesitated before sitting across from me. 

“Ready,” Thyr called.

Outside, Harker clicked his tongue and led the strange animal at a quick trot. 

Mark retrieved a wool sleeping roll from a box and offered it to me. I spread it out before laying down. It was a little rough and way too thin to be comfortable, but it was better than getting splinters. 

“You should sleep, Lady Ortai. Your arka will return with time.”

“Sounds good.” I yawned. It was weird to be tired in a dream.