Matt tiptoed down the spiral staircase to the ballroom, very much aware that a hotel full of late-night revelers would not appreciate being roused at half-past-zero in the morning. The stairs, almost surprisingly, smelled as if they had already been cleaned, and as he pushed through a set of double doors and into the ballroom, he spied four cleaners - all short, leathery-skinned old women - scrubbing the sizable space to within an inch of its life.

  “Must be a hell of a job,” a voice that was unmistakably Petra’s rose from the receptionist’s desk.

  Matt whirled to greet him, surprised to see Petra looking as if he had spent the night vomiting. He wore a comfortable expression, but even Matt could tell that it was forced. Of course, he was too slow to come up with a response.

  “Come,” Petra said, gesturing at Matt. “We’ll walk and talk.”

  Matt nodded, and together they stepped out onto the street. It was quiet, but not empty, the first cafes already opening, the sounds of rickety carts and market vendors already distantly audible through the still morning air. Petra waved behind him at a stocky baker in a green T-shirt as he passed by his shop, looking visibly guilty that he could not stop for breakfast.

  “What did you do last night?” Matt hushed. “After you left me.”

  Petra shook his head. “Not until we’re out of the city.”

  Matt’s eyes widened. “Where are we going?”

  Petra pressed his lips together for a breath, then turned to Matt. “I’ll tell you as soon as I can. Right now, just… talk about the weather or something.”

  “Bit of a hard ask to get me to talk about anything unprompted,” Matt admitted. “It’s nice out, I guess. I’d rather this than the thunderstorm.”

  Petra paused, a pensive look crossing his face. “Tell me more about the Beyonder girl.”

  “Rachel?” Matt wondered, a flash of resentment sputtering in his gut. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Nothing wrong with the beginning,” Petra reasoned.

  “Okay,” Matt sighed. He was hardly excited to recount any portion of the weeks during which he had actively pined for Rachel, but the one thing he hated more than self-deprecation was dishonesty.

  Well, dishonesty to equals. Dishonesty to the sober, Matt supposed.

  “I actually met her over the phone,” Matt recalled. “Jason’s parents had just received a parcel from Rachel containing a baggie of jewels and a handwritten note from him. Only, of course, none of us believed it was him, because he had thrown himself into the jaws of a hippo years prior.”

  “You must have imagined it to be a prank,” Petra mused.

  “The Walkers did,” Matt affirmed, widening his eyes at the memory. “I was at dinner with them when the parcel arrived. It was… not an evening I like to remember.”

  “I’m sorry.” Petra shot Matt a rueful smile. “I don’t mean to pry. I truly am curious.”

  Matt echoed his smile. “I haven’t even gotten to the part where I drive halfway across the country to meet her.”

  “You did what?” Petra exclaimed. “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Mm,” Matt agreed. “That was when I learned Jason was still alive. I still didn’t fully believe it until we got back to Vista, but it was enough for me to load Rachel into my car and drive us back home.”

  Petra chuckled. “Already liked her, huh?”

  Matt shook his head vehemently. “Actually, I’ve pretty much spent this whole time trying to convince myself that I don’t hate her. She’s certainly a product of her experiences. I just… I saw so much good in her, at least before I realized she had lied about it all.”

  “What do you see now?” Petra breathed, lowering his voice as they passed through a crowded square.

  “Can we talk about something else?” Matt ducked through a group of spectators, not bothering to spend his interest on the street performer they were watching. The city walls loomed in front of them, mixing the tight, dusty odor of the city with freer air. Though the gatewardens paid them casual interest, nobody seemed to look too closely as Matt and Petra left the city behind. The vast blue sky welcomed them to an ocean of grain fields, dotted with white-clad workers and the occasional farmhouse.

  “Ever ridden a horse before?” Petra asked.

  Matt shook his head. “Not even once.”

  Petra simply chuckled and took the lead. A few minutes later, they arrived at a sizable stable, and Petra entered into negotiations with the farmhand. Hardly a minute later, the stableman disappeared into the building, then returned with two horses in tow; one brown, one gray. Matt noticed Petra muttering under his breath, locking eyes with the horses and opening his chest towards them. The horses whickered gently as they approached, and the gray one sidled up to Matt and dropped its head as if in submission.

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  The stableman laughed. “Even Freckles in’t usually this friendly. You hidin’ bubblefruit on ye or somethin’?

  “I ate some yesterday morning,” Matt laughed. “Maybe I spilled some on my shirt.”

  Petra turned to Matt, hiding behind his horse, and shot him a wink.

  ? ? ?

  Petra refused to tell Matt where they were going until even the last tiny homestead gave way to an endless temperate forest. The road, once a well-traveled fairway, had grown rough and rocky, though the horses had yet to complain. The air was more humid here than out in the fields, and tasted strangely of minerals.

  “So, last night,” Petra blurted as they rounded a bend in the road. “I reinforced the wards that bind the torivors.”

  Matt frowned. “You look like you just crawled out of your own grave.”

  “It’s not as easy as it sounds,” Petra clarified. “All Edomic draws on the speaker’s life force. These wards are by far the most demanding Edomic challenge I have ever encountered, and I have sired whole races.”

  “Hold up,” Matt interjected. “You’re not just an adept. You’re a full-blown wizard, aren’t you?”

  “Guilty as charged, I suppose. Not that I ever kept it a secret.”

  “That’s why you already knew I had been with Tassel,” Matt babbled. “That’s how you just killed that… that thing last night. You-”

  “Shhhh.” Petra slowed his pace slightly and sidled up alongside Matt. “I am a wizard, not a monster. You travel with me due to circumstances out of your control, and partly by my own doing. I recognize the injustice, and I will do all that I can to keep you out of harm’s way in return.”

  “About that,” Matt tried. “Why take me with you? Why not leave me behind, knowing I’d be dead weight? I don’t speak Edomic. I’m no fighter.”

  “Two reasons.” Petra switched to Edomic quickly, and both horses sped up to a brisk trot. “One: to my knowledge, I have never directly or indirectly caused the death of a human.”

  Petra paused, seemingly waiting for Matt to react, but Matt had nothing to say.

  “Two: the only two people who have ever been harvested, to my knowledge, are you and me,” Petra explained. “They know us. They can sense us. Track us, to a degree. The further we are from them, the less their hunger gnaws.”

  “They’re less likely to escape with us gone,” Matt realized.

  “Mm.” Petra nodded. “The flipside is that, if they do escape…”

  Matt swallowed, and Petra looked away. Apparently, even a wizard of his caliber had fears he could not face.

  They trekked in silence for a time, following the road as it wound through a shallow creek canyon and up past its source. They stopped at the tiny spring from which stemmed the creek to fill their waterskins and let the horses drink. Matt, grateful for Petra’s preparedness, had borrowed a waterskin and a small hunting knife - concealed, of course, lest some unsavory company see it as an invitation to spar.

  As the day wore on, the road flattened out and wound through a rolling highland. Petra stopped them before Matt’s stomach began to growl, citing a need to forage for food. Matt offered to stay with the horses, but Petra insisted on his company.

  “You’ve got masses of food in your saddlebags,” Matt commented as they left the horses behind to hike through the open trees. “Why forage already?”

  Petra grunted as he bent down to pluck a handful of energy berries. “Most of the food I’ve brought will keep for weeks. Dried meat, gutplug, the like. I’d rather save those for when the land is less plentiful.”

  “Fair enough.” Matt spotted another energy berry bush and jogged over to it. “What should I be looking out for?”

  “Stick with me today,” Petra called. “I’ll give you the Tour de Plants. That way-”

  Matt interrupted Petra with an uncontrollable laugh - one that geysered out of him as if it contained far more than just mirth. It did, really. It contained familiarity, relief, a strange connection to a world that he may have already lost.

  Petra broke out in a timid giggle. “I didn’t think it was that funny.”

  Matt sighed contentedly and sat down next to the berry bush. “I miss Earth. It was… a welcome reminder.”

  “You and me both,” Petra sighed, striding over to Matt and sitting in front of him. “What was your life like, back on Earth?”

  “You don’t want to hear about that,” Matt said truthfully. “It was… boring.”

  Boring wasn’t the exact word he was looking for, but he was hoping to draw Petra’s interest away from his life on Earth. His life hadn’t been boring at all - it was just eventful in the worst possible way.

  “Not even a little bit?” Petra prodded. “Even I’m from far enough away that I don’t have much in common with an American.”

  “Mm-mm,” Matt rebuked. “I certainly wouldn’t be talking about cultural differences.”

  “Oh.” Petra’s face fell. “I’m sorry. Do you miss it? Is it hard to remember?”

  Matt thought hard about his answer. He could lie - it was what Petra wanted to hear, and it would stem his curiosity. But, given all that Petra had supposedly sacrificed for him - fifteen drooma and a pastry included - he supposed his new friend deserved the truth.

  Matt shook his head. “It is hard to remember, but… I’m glad I’m here.”

  Petra closed his eyes and smiled gently. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

  They remained there for an eternity, eyes closed, faces turned towards the afternoon sky. Matt’s stomach began to grumble, but he refused to heed its call.

  “Hey,” Petra tried, pulling the silence away like cobwebs from an old painting. “Do you want to be my friend?”

  Matt opened his eyes and smiled. “We are friends.”

  The very grass around them breathed a whispery sigh of contentment.

  “Well then, I should really teach my friend to forage so we don’t die out here.” Petra pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand towards Matt. Matt took it, and together they walked through the open trees, the sun brushing the foliage into a frenzied dance around them.