Cody looked at the talisman in his hand. The object fit perfectly into his palm, made up of mirror shards encased in resin.

“Will this really work?” he asked Merlin.

“Locke is fond of mirrors. We always thought he was simply vain, but when he looks into one, it strengthens his form. He draws power from it. In the library, I found two books about forest spirits. They mentioned the same thing, as well as their aversion to mirror shards—especially from mirrors they have often gazed into. If they get too close, it feels as though the shards are cutting into their skin.”

With his thumb, Cody pressed against a resin-coated point. “Doesn’t the resin cancel out the effect?”

“On the contrary, because it has been magically treated, the range is much greater. By the time he’s close enough to touch you, he’ll be in too much pain to hold any form long enough to harm you.”

Cody glanced thoughtfully at the cat. He wore a green-brown travel cloak and carried a staff with a golden-yellow stone, ready to depart.

“Here.” Orion took the talisman from his hand, threaded a cord through a small hole, and placed it around Cody’s neck. The thing bumped gently against Cody’s chest and radiated a faint warmth.

“Thanks.”

Orion’s knuckles brushed lightly along Cody’s jaw, setting his heart skittering like a startled fawn. “Still, be careful.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Moss is the only ogre I’ve ever spoken to. I know little about their kind. Stay close to Merlin; I know no one with stronger magic.”

Cody nodded. “You be careful too. Luther is…” He couldn’t find the words. It was still hard to believe they had been a couple. That, to some extent, they had cared for each other. Maybe they still did, in some unconscious way. On impulse, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Orion’s before pulling back, cheeks burning, the frightened fawn in his chest now seeming more like a dancing doe.

Orion looked stunned by the kiss and touched his lips briefly before they curved into a smile that made it even harder to step away.

“I’ll wait for you at the mushroom throne, as we agreed.”

Cody nodded. Reluctantly, he took a step back, then another. He turned toward Merlin and Moss, heart pounding, to show he was ready.

The latter grinned from ear to ear.

“How is it you look so… normal?” Cody asked. He looked down at the cat walking beside him. Unlike some others, he had no scales, bright colors, or wings. Merlin looked like an ordinary cat. Well—an ordinary cat who walked on two legs, wore clothes, practiced magic, and could speak. “You didn’t come out of Holtgaard with Orion, did you?”

Just in time, Cody ducked beneath a sweeping branch. The path ahead was narrow, though Moss’s size made it considerably easier for his companions to pass through.

“That’s right. But my ancestors did come from the human lands, unlike Basil, Astoria, and Nezumi. They are magical creatures by nature.”

“And you’re not?” Cody concluded.

“No. I was an ordinary cat before Orion found me and granted me greater intelligence. The most mundane needs fell away, replaced by other desires. I loved reading, making connections between all sorts of things. But nothing fascinated me more than magic. I wanted to become a wizard.” A soft purring sound rumbled in his chest. “And I did.”

“Is your staff your wand?”

“Orion gave me my own magical core. Sometimes it simply overflows. I store the excess magic here.” He tapped the bottom of his wooden staff against the ground.

“How can the core overflow? And how did Orion make it in the first place?” Cody hoped Merlin didn’t mind the barrage of questions, but he found it incredible what Orion was capable of.

“Some places on the island contain more magic than others. When I get close to them, my core reacts. I try to avoid them; they make me feel explosive.”

“And the core? How did Orion make it?”

There was a pause. The cat glanced upward briefly before focusing ahead again. “That’s for Orion to tell—if he wishes to.”

Cody frowned. Why wouldn’t he? Was it a skill Orion didn’t trust him with? Because it was dangerous in the wrong hands—like Luther’s? He could imagine it would be disastrous if someone like Luther had access to unlimited power. Well… he didn’t know if it was truly unlimited, but it was certainly more than if you had to draw magic from the ground each night, limited to three spells. And perhaps that ground could be depleted, leading to a dying forest.

Though curiosity burned in him, Cody didn’t press further. There were more than enough other things he wanted to know.

“If you’ve read all those books, you must know a lot about the forest. Do you… know anything about me? Have you ever read about someone whose hair shines? And who can paint razor-sharp images of things they’ve never seen?” Though Locke’s story had been a tragic one, Cody had still liked knowing something about his past—about his family.

“Sadly, no. It’s an intriguing mystery. Magic is also part of your being—as though you were born here, instead of arriving with the other humans. Yet it’s subtle, like diluted blood.”

Cody frowned. “It must be very subtle. I’m no good at practicing magic. At the Academy, I barely passed my practical exams.”

“Magic can express itself in other ways. In painting, or creating new kinds of tea and other mixtures. Isn’t that what you love to do?”

“Yes,” Cody admitted reluctantly. Still, it felt so… ordinary, and it didn’t match the idea he had of magic. If he wanted to teach an animal to speak, he wouldn’t even know where to begin. Simply writing ‘speak’ in the air wouldn’t work. And wings… Well, he wouldn’t manage those either.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. Everyone had their own talents. He didn’t need to surpass Orion, nor impress him. And yet… Yet he wanted to do more in this whole situation. Herbal teas and beautiful paintings couldn’t bring back memories or save the dying forest.

He couldn’t even stop Locke without help.

The ogres lived on a grassy plain. Their settlement was surrounded by a gigantic moss-covered wall that had long since seen its best days. The crumbling top made it look like a ruin. In some places, even Merlin could have easily climbed through the gaps. Yet the sight of it did not give a pitiful impression. Its proportions were colossal, and its apparent decay told of a long history. The place held something mysterious, something unyielding, as if the ogres feared no one and therefore paid no mind to the dilapidated walls.

Through the gaps, Cody caught glimpses of the city, which was at least twice the size of Holtgaard. The houses were of stone, built from such gigantic blocks that Cody could have rolled across them. No two buildings were the same: architecture was clearly something in which the ogres distinguished themselves from one another.

He saw no trees, save for one enormous specimen in the centre that dominated the whole surroundings. Even the trunk rose above everything else, in which a sullen face had formed. Twisting roots crept along the trunk like a wild beard, and the branches formed a dangerous antler rack.

“Is that also a titan?” Cody asked.

“Some ogres believe that the spirit of the titan entered the tree after the titan died. According to them, he watches over us. When the moonlight falls upon his face, silver beams of light pour from his eyes.”

“Fascinating,” Merlin murmured. “I suppose it’s forbidden to touch the tree?”

“Only during special celebrations are the Guides allowed to do so. Those are what you call women, I think,” Moss explained with a deep crease on his brow, as if copying the frown between Cody’s eyebrows. “I told you about how we view the different sexes, didn’t I?”

“Uh…” Cody felt his ears grow warm. During their journey to Orion’s house, Moss had told him a great deal about his kind. But as he’d felt worse with every step, little of it had stuck. “My memories between the moment we met and the washing away of Fleur’s magic are rather hazy. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, of course. Entirely understandable. Well, the first ogres – like all creatures here – came from the titan. The Builders were born from his bones, the Guides from the congealed blood. The Guides therefore consist of redder stone, and gemstones grow upon their bodies. They place those in certain locations in our city so that magic is properly conducted and remains in balance. When the magic is disrupted – as happened once in the past – no new soulstones are formed, and no young ogres are born.”

Cody let that information sink in. It troubled him that he had forgotten all this. “And you’re a Builder?”

“Yes. Or well, I’m supposed to be.” He bowed his head sadly. “But since I look so brittle, no one trusts my constructions. Honestly, they’re often not that stable.” He sighed, blowing a few bits of moss from his belly.

Cody felt for his friend, who stood so apart from the rest of society because of his fragile build. “And Bast?” he asked, knowing she always cheered him up.

“Bast is a Guide, though she often puts the stones into her own constructions. She’s also very good at building.”

In Moss’s eyes, she could probably do everything well, Cody thought with a faint smile. “Are all Guides women?” He still couldn’t quite picture female ogres, especially since they had no sexual organs. Yet Moss seemed to make a distinction.

“You could see it that way,” Moss agreed. “If you compare it to other creatures. It is indeed a division where each has a different role.”

Cody cast a glance at Merlin, who was soaking up all the knowledge eagerly. “Did you know this already?”

“Certainly not. I knew there were ogres, I just hadn’t read much about them in the library.”

“We ogres are generally not so fond of humans.”

Cody had just been about to walk further toward the village, but now he froze. “What? Then why would they help?”

“For the fish feast.”

“But if they really dislike us, they wouldn’t do that, would they?”

Moss made a dismissive gesture. “They’re allowed to storm The Valley of Men. They think it’s fantastic.”

Cody didn’t know what to think of it. He didn’t know the origin of their dislike, though he could imagine. In many stories he had read, humans were insatiable beings who wanted to claim anything that glittered and gleamed. “Have there been humans here before who wanted to steal the gemstones?”

“They didn’t just want to, they did. The magic became so disrupted that for a long time, no new ogres were born. Our race nearly went extinct.”

Cody bit his lip. He felt ashamed of his heritage, even though some people doubted whether he was fully human at all. “How terrible to hear. For many, it must have been a relief when humans shut themselves away in the village. The exiles are probably too few to pose a threat to you.”

“They know we wouldn’t leave a single thing of their village standing.”

“Do you think the other ogres can enter The Valley without casualties? We want to free Nova, not cause a massacre.” Suddenly, Cody could picture with dreadful clarity how the attack might turn into a horror – and then Orion and he would be responsible! Orion – who, if the prophecy was to be believed, was already followed by chaos.

“We just have to make clear agreements. Now, let’s keep walking. Looks like we haven’t gone unnoticed.”

Cody looked ahead. And indeed: under the great entrance arch stood ogres watching them with folded arms.

Moss’s return didn’t seem to stir much enthusiasm among them.

Cody just hoped the ogre had judged the situation well. “If they want us to wait, we can do that,” Cody said quickly.

“After all the hospitality I’ve been shown? It would be a disgrace to our people if we treated you that way.” Determined, Moss walked toward the walled city.

Cody followed nervously. He tried to gauge the wizard cat’s stance, but his gaze was fixed ahead in thought.

Stone grit scattered among the grass crunched under Cody’s shoes. As he drew nearer, more sounds reached him – hammering, tapping, and grinding, woven through now and then with long voices.

It was as if he were approaching a gigantic workshop.

“Moss,” greeted an ogre in the middle of the gate. His body was made of dark grey stone streaked with white. On the sides of his head hung strands of moss like hair. “You’ve been away a long time. We thought you’d fallen apart.”

Laughter came from the two ogres flanking him. They had a more compact build, with uneven arms.

“Well, I had,” Moss admitted honestly. He looked back at Cody. “This kind young man repaired me.”

The ogre in the middle gave a snorting sound. “Let me guess: now he wants a reward?”

“He wants help. In exchange for something every ogre would drop all his work for.”

That caught their attention. Suddenly, all eyes were on him.

“Fish,” Cody said meekly. “I heard you like fish. Anyone willing to help invade the Valley of Men, I promise a lavish fish dinner.”

Merlin stepped forward. He made a deep bow and then traced a circle on the ground, in which three plates filled with fish appeared. “A taste.”

The three looked at each other.

Then they pounced on the plates as one.

Cody stared wide-eyed. If fish were their great weakness, it was better kept secret, or it would be far too easy to poison the ogres.

A shiver ran down his spine. What had happened to him, that such troubling thoughts arose?

In Holtgaard, that would never have happened.

In Holtgaard, scales had covered his eyes that had now fallen away.