Chương 42: Chapter 41: A CLOSE BRUSH

CHAPTER 41 A CLOSE BRUSH —∞— Meiyao vanished into the mist, leaving behind only the taut rope that linked them. Jieyuan tensed, but only briefly. He forced himself to move forward, stepping into the denser stretch of mist. The moment he was through, the space around him opened up more than a dozen feet ahead and across. That confirmed his suspicions; the mist did work on a kind of threshold. Much like the previous area, it had a single tree.

Except this tree was halfway through the left-side boundary of this new pocket of clearer mist, split straight down the middle. A cluster of low shrubs crowded its base, with other patches sprinkling the rest of the area. Everything else was the same. Soft earth coated thick with glowing grass and scattered leaves, all of it submerged in a sea of faint viridian mist, rolling and curling intangibly. Standing in the middle was Meiyao; she was turned back, facing him. Relief crossed her face, though gone in a flash.

She gave him a nod, turned away again, and kept walking. It occurred to Jieyuan, then, that she might not have been all that sure about whether using a rope would've worked. And he'd thought he was the gambler. Then again, it'd been his idea to enter the Dome in the first place. Couldn't call someone a sucker at the auction when you'd been the first to place a bid. He glanced back. His rope disappeared into an opaque curtain of mist. No sign of Daojue, but he'd gotten through just fine, and the rope was taut.

He pressed on. Ahead, Meiyao walked with the steady, measured gait of someone who knew exactly where they were going. Which she did, apparently. The center. What was there, though, was anyone's guess. Maeva was beside him, keeping pace as she eyed the surroundings. Caught anything? he sent her, though he didn't expect much. From the corner of his eye, he saw Daojue emerge behind them. So far, so good. Maeva shook her head.

"Nothing." He sighed and cut off Absolute Will Command. Maeva flickered out. If she couldn't help here, no use wasting chroma. Ahead, Meiyao passed beyond the zone of clarity and disappeared once more. Jieyuan followed. And so it went, one pocket of clarity to the next. Each time, the mist thinned ahead to allow for sight, even as it closed behind them like a curtain. Soundless, soft, and more importantly, final. Because if he'd understood correctly how the mist worked, there was no turning back.

He liked to think the only way was forward. The problem was that the mist took that to heart—and, worse, put it into practice. He'd have appreciated the irony if he weren't the punchline. It was maybe an hour later that, after passing into another zone, Jieyuan found that Meiyao wasn't walking, but standing still again.

"Mei—" She whirled around to him.

"Shhh." Oh. Jieyuan shut his mouth and kept still. Feeling the rope slacken behind him, he stepped to the side so Daojue could come through. Seeing them there, standing still, Daojue also came to a stop. At least they didn't need to warn him not to speak. Meiyao turned back forward. Jieyuan scanned the area around them, then the denser mist beyond, unease prickling at his skin. She hadn't offered any explanation, and nothing looked off—but if he was reading her right, then she'd sensed something.

Something lurking just beyond the edge of the clear zone, shrouded by the thicker circle of mist around them. Probably a beast. Hopefully a beast, in fact; because anything else was likely worse. For over a minute, Meiyao didn't move an inch. Neither did he or Daojue. The air hung frozen, suspended. The world reduced to breath and heartbeat—and not a sound more. Then Meiyao gave a short nod and turned slightly, her voice low.

"From now on, only speak when I do." She glanced at his feet.

"And move quietly." It was only after she said it that Jieyuan realized just how silently she moved when she set off again. She wore greaves just like he did, stepped into the same sprawling undergrowth, and yet he barely heard so much as a crunch, even with a cultivator's hearing, just the suggestion of movement, soft as breath, gone before it registered. Jieyuan resumed walking, being more careful about where he stepped this time.

As he did, he focused, briefly, on Daojue's footsteps—and found they weren't much different from his own. So it wasn't some special clan-born talent, but rather a Meiyao thing. Good to know. They kept walking. Zone to zone. On and on. Each zone varied slightly in appearance, but not much. A tree. Two trees. No trees. Shrubs in rings. Shrubs in piles. No shrubs at all. Every area the same, and never quite. Every so often, Meiyao would call another stop, but so far they'd managed to avoid any beasts.

The tension slowly drained away, whittled down by repetition and monotony. Several hours later, when Meiyao froze for the twenty-seventh time so far, Jieyuan readied the Shifting Sisters just in case—but didn't feel particularly tense, otherwise. Ready for a fight, sure, but otherwise cool. Like every time so far, Meiyao resumed walking after a while, and they continued on.

Jieyuan focused on his steps, splitting his attention between the ground and the surroundings, but by this point he was already getting the hang of it. He wasn't as quiet as Meiyao, but he barely had to pay attention anymore as he stepped around branches, finding quieter footing. He'd always been quick to pick up new skills. That much, at least, hadn't changed. Around them, the mist ebbed and flowed to unseen currents, as intangible as ever.

At the rate they were going, it'd probably take the better part of a decade to reach the center. There was nothing to be done about it (rushing wasn't an option, not when it was clear that even Meiyao had to tread carefully here), but that didn't mean he had to like it. He'd never been good at waiting. He was better off than your average Firesoul, something he had his old man to thank for. But a decade was a long time. Though maybe that was his mundane background working against him.

To a cultivator, a decade wasn't nearly so bad. In theory, Redsouls had twice a mundane lifespan, but that was only a mundane's theoretical life expectancy. The most they could ever hope to reach. Most mundanes would be lucky to make it past eighty. Even the rich ones didn't tend to make it to a hundred. Meanwhile, Redsouls spent their three hundreds in perfect health, down to their very last breath. They got more mileage out of their lifespan. A lot more. Still. A decade. It wasn't just the passing of time.

It was the wasting of it. Back in the Gleamstone Valley, it hadn't been as bad. He'd known it would all come to a head in a month's time—for better or worse. And back then, he'd been new to the whole cultivation business. It had been his first real outing. His first time facing chromal beasts. His first time living on the razor's edge, day by day, death around every turn. He'd been tenser then, jumpier. There'd been hardly any room in him for boredom. He was hardly a veteran now.

But he wasn't some newly minted coin, either. He'd taken some beatings. Now? Now he could afford to be bored. It was a luxury he'd rather have done without, though. Heavens be good. A decade of this. That was what he had to look forward to. And that was the best-case scenario. If only he could be doing something else at the same time… Jieyuan blinked, then mulled over the thought. An idea came to him; or the beginning of one, at any rate. Cultivation … No, that won't work.

He handled the pain better than most, but it still took all he had just to keep himself still. Reforming his soulprism, though? Filling back up his chroma reserves? Jieyuan turned the idea over in his head. The thing about chroma harvesting and attuning was that you had to concentrate on it. Concentrate on the presence of the Heavens filling your head, keep it from slipping away, all the while chanting the hymns. It didn't take up all your attention, though. He'd kept watch earlier while doing it.

But pulling it off while treading carefully like this, having to abruptly stop every once in a while as danger came and went… Well, that was a different story. But maybe … He reached for Absolute Will Command, and whispered to himself, " See Maeva." Maeva appeared right beside him, wearing her white lab coat, yellow sundress, and a thoughtful look.

"It won't work if you do it and leave me to keep an eye out," she said, without preamble.

"If something happens, there'll be a delay as I return control to you. It'd be too risky." Oh. He didn't think he'd ever had an idea shut down that fast. Then—"But it might work if I do the chanting, and you keep an eye out," Maeva said.

"I'll need control over your mouth, however." Jieyuan wasn't sure what she had in mind, but it couldn't hurt to try. You have it.

"Take out a prism, then." Without breaking pace, he joined the two Shifting Sisters together and left his left hand holding the complete amphis. His right one went into his holder pouch and pulled out a prism. He considered it for a moment.

"Put it inside your robe, in the fold," Maeva said.

"It should work." He nodded and tucked it just above the sash binding the front of his robes. Then he split Shifting Edge again. All yours. Do your thing. Maeva nodded. Then she walked toward him—and then into him, vanishing. He didn't feel any different; but then his mouth moved, on its own, " Flaming." The words were barely more than a breath, more mouthed than said. As quiet as one could speak, softer even than Meiyao's steps.

And though he didn't feel any different, his soulsenses caught it as chroma broke off from the prism and flowed up into his soul. Oh. Oh. His mouth kept on moving, chanting, and chroma kept on flowing. But he still didn't feel any different—his focus seemed whole, and there was none of the excess awareness that accompanied Heavenly Communion. It worked. Heavens damn it, but it worked. He would've laughed, but his mouth kept chanting steadily, like it wasn't his own,"Flaming."

Ahead, Meiyao stopped and glanced back at him.

"Jieyuan?" she said, frowning.

"What are you—" He felt a shift inside him as he regained control over his mouth. The flow of chroma ceased.

"Don't worry," he told Meiyao.

"I know what I'm doing." Her frown didn't ease up, and she gave him a long, measured look. But then she nodded and resumed walking. Immediately afterward, his mouth moved again on his own, " Flaming." Right then and there, he might have asked Maeva to marry him… if she weren't his sister, or a hallucination. Earlier, he'd worried about how long it would take to restore his chroma reserves. Three hundred hours.

At four hours a day (probably the most he'd get to spend on chroma-gathering, given the priority was covering ground) it'd take nearly three months. Now, though? Absolute Will Command took chroma to keep running, sure, but barely any. Give him ten days or so, and he'd be topped up again. He grinned; or would have, if Maeva wasn't using his mouth to chant. The monotony dragged on. But at least now he was getting work done. Or well, part of him was. But he'd take it.

It helped, too, that having more chroma on hand might just mean the difference between dying with nothing to show for it—and living long enough to make it count. And to settle some scores. —∞— Jieyuan tensed as he went through another mist curtain, eyes already scanning the ground. Meiyao was calling stops more and more often, almost every other pocket now. They hadn't come across any beasts yet, but that was just about the only good thing he could say about the situation.

As the mist cleared around him, he just barely managed to find a relatively clear spot to step down into. Then he looked up; sure enough, Meiyao was standing still. He looked around again to decide where it was safe to tread, then stepped to the side, and waited. He kept busy scanning the forest floor, planning out his path for when they resumed, deciding exactly where he'd be stepping. About an hour ago, right around the time Meiyao had started calling more stops, he'd noticed they were on an incline.

It'd started off subtle. It could've easily just been some small hillock they were crossing. But the further they went, the more pronounced the angle became. Their pace was also slower. Not because the slope made it any harder to walk (the angle was still too slight to be any trouble), but because the vegetation had changed.

Off to the side of the mist pocket wasn't one of those massive stalwart trees from earlier, but a lean thing; though that was only in comparison to the earlier ones, as Jieyuan would still need three of himself to circle it. Its spindly branches and needle-like leaves gave it the look of a cone. Though there was no way to tell for sure, as over half of it was lost in the thicker ceiling of mist above.

Ahead, Meiyao moved, a step to the left, then to the right, like she was looking for something, gliding effortlessly across the dense forest floor in that silent prowl of hers. She looked wholly intent on the mist around them, and yet she made only the slightest of sounds—when even a falling feather might have made a racket. Meiyao clearly wasn't having any issues with that. But as good as Jieyuan had gotten over the last few hours, he wasn't anywhere near her level yet.

Of course, Daojue was already better at it—even though they'd both started working on it at the same time, and just as noisy as each other. Because of course Daojue had already surpassed him. It was Daojue. And speak of rot … Jieyuan glanced to the side as Daojue stepped smoothly, soundlessly, into the mist pocket, right beside him. … and it shall appear. Jieyuan was a quick study, no doubt about that, but Daojue was the kind of student who could sleep through every class and still ace each and every exam.

Except Daojue wasn't satisfied with coasting on talent alone; he put in just as much effort as anyone else, if not more. Jieyuan sighed; or tried to, anyway. What came out of his mouth was " Ablaze," whispered softly in a never-ending drone. Right. He'd grown so used to Maeva chanting the hymns through him that he sometimes forgot it was happening. He cast another look around. Meiyao was still pacing back and forth.

She did that sometimes, when they stopped; he took it as a sign things were even worse than when she stayed put. The fact that this was already the twentieth time in the past hour didn't bode well. Aside from Meiyao's faint footsteps and his even fainter chant, there was silence: a low, whistling kind that seemed unique to this place. To the Dome. As far as he could tell, the mist blocked not just sight but sound as well.

The only thing it let through was the breeze, and with it, that deep, sickly scent of both thriving life and festering decay. This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Near Meiyao, the cone-shaped tree pulsed. Unlike the massive ones from earlier, it didn't give off a constant glow; instead, it throbbed with light. The brown of its trunk and branches beat in a steady rhythm, slow as breath, while its leaves flashed much faster, blinking bright green.

Something else that pulsed, except white instead of brown, were the briars. They'd started cropping up a while back. He could see several patches now, including a tall tangle just off to his side: a wild, glowing bramble of pale stems, thick with green-tipped thorns. Thorns. Tenth -step Redrealm thorns. Easily the biggest problem so far. The nasty things could slice through robe, skin, and flesh like shears through cheap cloth.

About an hour back, he'd walked into one crossing into the next mist pocket; and if it hadn't been for his greaves, he might have lost a few pounds worth of leg. Shove a Redsoul fully into one of those, and they wouldn't be getting back up.

"New prism." Maeva's voice rang in his ear like she was standing right beside him. Jieyuan sent his soulsenses inward. His soulprism floated at the center of his soul, still spinning slightly from the attuning session Maeva must've just finished. It was already significantly larger. Not quite a tenth of its full size yet, but not far off, either. The rest of his soul hollow was empty; Maeva had used up all of his unattuned chroma. He took out another prism and tucked it into his robes. Maeva got right back to it.

His mouth moved on its own, chanting," Flaming." That was the fourth prism, which meant Maeva had been cultivating for him for about nine hours now: three sessions of harvesting, and just as many of attuning. With no day or night to go by, this was the best way he'd found to track time. Counting the hours it had taken him before he'd come up with the idea to use Absolute Will Command for cultivation, they'd been walking for over twenty hours now.

If they'd kept to their rhythm from the Gleamstone Valley, they'd have stopped already, but Jieyuan figured Meiyao wanted to push it as far as she could. He already had a fairly good idea of how he'd make it to the other side of the pocket, so there wasn't much point in looking around anymore. As always, his gaze drifted back to Meiyao. She'd gone still again, half-turned to him. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed. He wondered, not for the first time (not even for the hundredth) what exactly she was thinking.

Or rather, what was going on inside her head. He'd long since given up on spotting any signs of danger himself. The mist always looked the same whenever Meiyao stopped. Their surroundings never gave anything away either; which made sense, since the problem wouldn't lie inside the pocket, but somewhere beyond it. He didn't know how Meiyao could tell something was wrong, whether it was something she saw, or heard, or sensed in some other way. Though, with her eyes closed right now, he could probably rule out seeing.

He didn't know what exactly she was doing, either. It looked like she was just waiting for danger to pass, but it happened too often, too regularly, for that to be all it was. If some beast were really lurking nearby, it didn't make sense for them to move on so quickly every time. But if it wasn't that, he had no better guess. He was still watching Meiyao, still wondering, when she turned to him and Daojue and said, "We'll stop here for today." She kept her voice low, but not enough to count as a whisper.

Probably safe to make some noise, then. Just not too much.

"I'll take first watch," she added. With that, she walked over to the tree—the makeshift rope between them going almost taut—and leaned back against the trunk, head angled toward the mist ahead. The lower branches hung barely a foot above her. Daojue said nothing. He just took a few steps forward, sat down on the ground, crossed his legs, closed his eyes, and set Gleaming End beside him. Jieyuan didn't move, his eyes on Meiyao. This whole strange business with the viridian mist aside, she seemed more like herself.

More open. Less thorny. It was worth a shot. He walked over. Maeva, I'll need—"All yours," Maeva said. He paused mid-step as she stepped out of him, like his body was just a doorway to somewhere else. She glanced at Meiyao, then smirked at him.

"Good luck." Thanks. He cut off the bondskill, and she vanished. Jieyuan stopped beside Meiyao. She was still looking out into the mist. Facing away from her, he set his back against the trunk, mirroring her posture. He stared past a short row of brambles into the glowing, deep green haze enclosing them. For a while, he didn't say anything, just to see if Meiyao would break the silence or react to his presence.

He'd learned that trick as a negotiation tactic, but nothing said it couldn't work in other situations too. Or rather, nothing except the situation at hand. The seconds trailed by in silence. Meiyao didn't even seem to notice him. Normally, he'd have assumed she was ignoring him. She'd done plenty of that over the past few days. But after everything that had happened today, there was a good chance she really hadn't noticed.

That she was caught up with whatever it was she did when she was guiding them through the mist. Honestly, he'd have preferred it if she were pissed off. At least he knew how to deal with Meiyao when she was in a foul mood. Things had turned out just fine back in the palace's gleamstone room, after she'd stormed out of the conference. Ask a few questions to get things going, then listen while she vented. Simple as sin. But he was on wholly unfamiliar ground around this tense, morose Meiyao.

Or, as might be the case, this eerie, distant Meiyao, who wasn't quite all there, her mind somewhere else. Well, he'd just have to bite the coin and hope for gold.

"How are you holding up?" he asked. He watched her from the corner of his eye. The silence stretched a bit longer. Then she said, softly, without turning to him, "Fine." So she had been ignoring him. But she'd answered. Small steps on the road to fortune.

"If you want to talk—""I'm sorry," Meiyao said, turning toward him, in a tone that was about the farthest thing from sorry, unless sorry came with a mean right hook and barbs, "but what the rot gave you the idea I wanted to talk right now?" She hissed the words, and it hit harder than if she'd shouted. Her voice dripped venom. A moment ago, he'd wished for a furious Meiyao. In hindsight, he should've specified he didn't mean furious at him. He pushed off the tree, rounding on her.

Something sparked in his chest—hot, scalding—and he had to bite back a retort. When people snapped on him, his first instinct was to snap right back. That was the Firesoul in him. He'd never been more grateful for his father's lessons in self-control. Brutal, but necessary. Breathe in. Breathe out. Even so, he couldn't stop himself as he gave voice to something that had been eating at him for a while now.

"If this is about what happened with Yongyi, at the end—""Oh, it's about Yongyi, all right," Meiyao snarled. Her lips pulled back, eyes wide, frenzied.

"And Uncle Yiming. And my whole rotting family, who are all rotting dead and—" She cut herself off. Closed her eyes. Took a step back. Put up a hand.

"It's not— It's not that." Her voice wavered, shook.

"Not you. It's just that we're so rotting slow— And they are still out there, the rotting traitors— And I just— I can't— Can't wait years to—" She slammed a gauntleted fist into the tree, hard enough to make it shake. Then she dropped her head.

"I'm sorry," she said again, so softly her words were almost swallowed by the breeze. No venom this time; she meant it, no question. But Jieyuan would've preferred another dose of venom over this shot of heartache.

"It's… I'm not… Just…" She stumbled over the words.

"I just need to think on my own. I'm still… still…" Before he knew it, Jieyuan was already stepping forward, reaching out. He wrapped his arms around Meiyao and pulled her in close. There was a moment of resistance as Meiyao froze—then she threw herself forward, clinging to him tight enough to hurt, burying her head in his shoulder. Her heart pounded against his chest like a rapid drum. Her breath came just as fast: shallow, hot, catching every few seconds, like she kept forgetting how to breathe.

A slow, damp warmth spread across his shoulder, soaking through the cloth. He didn't know how long they stayed like that. But gradually, slowly, Meiyao's breath and heartbeat slowed, and her grip on him began to ease. When he felt her push lightly against him, he let go; she stepped back, head raised. Meiyao looked straight at him. Her green eyes were reddened at the edges, moist, the kind of look that came from holding too much in for too long.

There was something unreadable in her face; tired, maybe, or bracing for something she hadn't quite decided whether to say. Then she gave a small, soft nod. She sank down to the ground without a word, settling back against the tree. She bunched her knees up in front of her, arms wrapping around them, pulling them in until they pressed tight against her chest. Jieyuan watched her for a moment longer, then lowered himself beside her, looking away. She didn't say anything else. Neither did he.

But Jieyuan didn't mind this kind of silence. It was a while later when Meiyao spoke, her voice quiet.

"I'll kill them. I'll kill them all. Every last one of them." And he said, simply, "I'll help you." Nothing more needed to be said. —∞— Jieyuan stood just at the edge of the tracks, staring down at the massive footprint. Meiyao was on the opposite end of the pocket, inspecting the spot where the tracks disappeared into the denser mists beyond. Jieyuan's experience with animal footprints was—well, nonexistent. That wasn't exactly a skill you needed in the city. He could tell some things, though.

First and foremost, he wanted nothing to do with whatever beast it belonged to. The footprint had flattened a patch the size of his chest onto the ground, with four smaller, almost drop-shaped patches arranged just ahead of it, these ones being, say, about the size of his open palms. The gleam wolves they'd faced back in the Gleamstone Valley had been huge (large enough to ride on, easily), but they'd have probably looked cute next to the owner of these footprints.

Jieyuan looked up at Meiyao, who wasn't moving just quietly, but without any sound whatsoever. She was actually taking her time with her steps. He didn't dare move; Meiyao only got this silent when the situation was really dire. He'd even had Maeva stop chanting. The good news was that this was the first time they'd come across this set of footprints. The bad news was that this was the first time they'd come across this set of footprints. Because there had been others.

They'd been working their way up the incline for a week now. They first came across animal tracks three days ago; except those had been much smaller than these, so small he wouldn't have noticed them if Meiyao hadn't stopped to inspect. Since then, they'd come across tracks every few pockets, some familiar, some new. Jieyuan glanced around, noting the clear, unmistakable incline they were on. The slope was now pronounced enough you could call it steep.

Give it a few more degrees, and they wouldn't be walking anymore, but climbing. He'd have thought the higher up you were, the less animals you'd come across. Someone had apparently forgotten to tell the beasts in the Dome that, though. Ahead, Meiyao stood still again, now at the very edge of the clearing, practically touching the mist. Despite all the signs of beasts they kept coming across now, that was all there was to it. They hadn't come across the beasts themselves.

Without a doubt, they had Meiyao to thank for that. The downside was that to make this possible, Meiyao had stopped at every single pocket so far to do her thing. What that thing was, Jieyuan still didn't know, either. Since their talk a week ago, they hadn't talked much. It wasn't that she'd gone back to ignoring him. Nor was she cold, or curt. She was just… withdrawn. She'd answer if he asked something—pleasantly enough, even—but Jieyuan didn't press her. She'd asked for time to think.

Before, he'd kept away because he didn't know what else to do. This time, at least, he knew it was the right call. There was one thing he'd figured out about her handling of the mist, though. She could probably control, at least to some extent, where they ended up when crossing clearings. He glanced over at Daojue, who was still standing at the entrance of the pocket, beneath the shade of a large tree. Most of its trunk wasn't visible, the branches extending in from the mist behind.

Except there hadn't been any such tree in the previous pocket, which meant whatever was behind them wasn't the clearing they'd just stepped out of. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed something like this happen—signs that distance and direction weren't completely scrambled—but he couldn't help but remark on it each and every time. How his mind was wholly at the mercy of the viridian mist. How, without Meiyao, chances were he'd be dead a dozen times over, even with Daojue with him.

And how it was really a good thing she'd come up with the ropes idea. He hadn't really understood, when she'd said it, what it meant when she'd said they'd be split up if they weren't in contact with each other when they crossed. And he still didn't, but now he had proof of it. Jieyuan stared down at the tracks again. The size of the beast that had left it behind wasn't the only thing he could glean from it, of course. Maybe it would've been, if all he had were this life's memories.

His old man's interest in animals—and, by extension, what he thought Jieyuan ought to know—only stretched as far as value. Which ones were worth buying or trading, which were better off dead for parts, and what those parts were worth. His biology lessons back as Amyas had been considerably more inclusive. Enough, at least, for him to recognize a paw print when he saw one. Four toes, so probably not a bear. More likely canine or feline. Then again, that was hardly minted in coin.

Chromal beasts treated nature's rules more like suggestions. Still, he would bet on a cat. A big cat, triple emphasis on big.

"And you'd be right," Maeva said. Since she wasn't chanting at the moment, she'd stepped out of him and was inspecting the footprint too.

"I never cared much for biology, but cats are the ones with retractable claws. See how it ends with the pads? If it were a canine, you'd also see the nail impressions." He nodded. That sounded about right. But—well, big cat or big dog, it didn't really matter. Only whether they'd survive the encounter. Catching a flicker of movement off to the side, he looked up again. Meiyao had raised her hand, then stepped through the mist without a word. Too dangerous for sound, then, but safe enough to proceed.

Jieyuan exhaled slowly, then started forward, each step deliberate, mindful not to snap a twig or shift a pebble. Daojue followed just behind, silent as a ghost. He reached the edge where Meiyao had crossed, then carefully stepped through. As soon as his vision cleared, he scanned the immediate space—no briars, good—and completed the step, fully entering the new clearing. He took a moment to survey the rest of it. Two trees, one on either side, both with that familiar cone-shaped silhouette.

No briars at all, which was always welcome. And best of all: neither beast nor tracks in sight. As always, Meiyao had come through— Already halfway through the pocket, Meiyao froze mid-step. Jieyuan tensed, but this happened so often he wasn't all that concerned. Just stepped quietly to the side so Daojue wouldn't stumble into him. But then Meiyao whipped her head up. Jieyuan blinked. That didn't happen often. No, that was new. Meiyao always looked around plenty, in just about much every direction, except up.

Never up. He looked up—just in time to see a great, massive, white-green shape plunge through the mist, bursting through it, and slam down into the middle of the pocket, just in front of Meiyao. For a moment, the creature was wreathed in a whirling, spinning trail of mist, a glowing white-green blur, wrapped in a turret of vapor. Then wings unfolded from the haze: enormous, sweeping things that stretched so wide their tips vanished into the thick mist enclosing the clearing.

Pearly white feathers edged each wing in a glowing frame, with several rows of jade-green plumes layered beneath. Every feather looked as large and sharp as the blade of a sword. Then the wings gave a single beat, and Jieyuan had to brace himself against the surge of wind that slammed into him, the usually faint mist crashing over him in a rolling wave of green. And then, just as suddenly, it passed. And he saw the creature. It was nothing like the flying beasts that had rushed them on the way to the Dome.

He hadn't gotten a proper look at those, but their shape had vaguely reminded him of eagles, sleek, fast, built to strike. This one was a hunched, heavy, looming beast. A vulture. It stood nearly twice Meiyao's height. Its body was thick with white feathers, wide through the chest and shoulders. That bulk tapered down into a pair of thick, green-scaled legs. Even sunk into the forest floor, its talons were visible, each claw long enough to wrap around a full-grown person.

Its neck stretched long, featherless but not bare. Rows of white and jade-green scales ran down its length in glowing, overlapping bands. The head followed the same pattern: scaled and gleaming, with a bright green beak shaped in a long, brutal curve. A jagged white crest rose from the bridge of the beak and swept back over its crown, ridged and spiked. Its eyes were set deep in its skull, small for its head but still as large as open hands. Green, like the mist, but glowing with a fiercer light.

The massive bird slowly turned its head, scanning the clearing—Jieyuan noticed then that Daojue had stepped through at some point—before lowering its gaze, curving its neck down to stare directly at Meiyao, who stood just in front of it. It rotated its head to one side, then the other, making no sound as it moved. Its neck seemed almost like a separate creature, long, coiling, sinuous. It could've easily passed for the body of a serpent. Jieyuan held his breath. The size wasn't the problem.

If anything, it made things easier. A bird that big wouldn't be fast, not on the ground. A bird that large wouldn't be agile, not this close to the ground. And with that much bulk, it'd be hard to miss. He'd take giant bird over massive cat any time. Wouldn't even have to think about it. No. The issue was that his soulsenses couldn't detect it. That ruled out Redrealm entirely. And there was no chance that this creature was mundane. Jieyuan gripped the Shifting Sisters tighter, though it was pure instinct.

They wouldn't make a difference here. If they were lucky, the bird was only first-step Orangerealm, making Gleaming End the only thing they had that could harm it. If they weren't… then it might be higher-step. Or worse, higher- realm. He didn't dare move. Part of him wanted to toss the odds, rush forward, drag Meiyao out of harm's way, get her anywhere but beside the massive, deadly beast. But the rational part knew better. Meiyao was their only chance. If she couldn't get them through this, then that was it.

The end. He risked a glance to the side. Daojue had moved, Gleaming End in hand, but hadn't raised it. Looked like he was willing to let Meiyao try first. The vulture folded its wings tight against its body, then slowly began to lower its head—down, and down, its neck curving back in a wide arc—until it hung just short of eye level with Meiyao. Meiyao remained completely still. She had her side to him, and from the angle, Jieyuan could just make out her profile.

Her expression was blank, utterly unreadable, as she stared into the creature's eyes. Whether that was a good sign or not, he had no idea. But one thing caught his attention: Meiyao's eyes and the beast's were nearly identical, practically the same color. The only real difference was their size and shape. Because, unless it was some trick of the light, Meiyao's eyes were glowing too. The beast swiveled its head to one side, then the other; same as before, but slower now, more deliberate.

Its eyes never left Meiyao's. Then it slowly parted its beak before letting out a low, grinding rumble, like stone scraping against stone. The sound hit Jieyuan in the ribs, a deep vibration that rattled straight through him. Meiyao didn't seem to notice. She lifted her hand and rested it gently against the creature's beak. The world might have stopped right then. The noise died. The vulture froze. Then, slowly, it drew its head back, neck unfurling like a coiled rope.

Its wings spread wide once more, massive and gleaming, stirring the mist as they rose. The first beat came heavy and slow, a wall of air slamming outward. Mist churned in a wide spiral, branches creaked, and Jieyuan had to plant his feet to keep from stumbling. The second came faster. Stronger. The mist surged like a green tide, billowing upward in turbulent rings as the creature lifted off the ground, massive talons tearing free from the soil with a sound like roots ripping loose.

It surged upward, wings carving through the mist, glowing feathers slicing the air with each beat. A final burst of mist spiraled around it as it punched through the ceiling; then it vanished, swallowed by the pale green haze above. Jieyuan would've slumped forward. But Meiyao hadn't moved; her hand was still raised in the air, exactly as it had been when she touched the beak. So he forced himself to stay still. Then, like a weight had finally shifted, she let her hand fall and turned to face them.

Her face was pale, her forehead damp with sweat. The glow in her eyes was gone—if it had even been real—but something sharp lingered, clear and vivid. She nodded at them, then turned and closed the distance to the edge of the clearing. Jieyuan finally let himself slump, a wave of relief dragging through him like gravity. But Meiyao had already slipped into the next pocket, so he snapped back upright and followed. No rest for the wicked. —∞—"Here's good," Meiyao said.

It had been several hours since the close call with the vulture. They hadn't come across any more beasts, though they'd seen more animal tracks—and rather than slow their pace, Meiyao had picked it up. They were still on a slope, except now it was a downward one. They'd reached the crest a while back, a ridge by the look of it, and had been descending since. By now, they'd been walking for over a day. Normally, Meiyao would've called it off sooner, but it seemed she hadn't wanted to stop so close to the top.

Jieyuan approved wholeheartedly. He wouldn't have minded walking a few more hours, even. It would've been a fair trade for getting further down, dropping their altitude, putting more distance between them and the ridge. Jieyuan popped a fasting pill (he sure was glad he'd thought to stockpile those, just in case) and said, "I'll take first watch." He glanced over at Meiyao. She closed her eyes, like she was checking for something, then gave him a nod.

Only then did he really ease up; Meiyao wouldn't pass off first watch unless she was sure it was safe. Daojue settled onto the ground without a word, right where he was, at the edge of the clearing. This particular mist pocket was nearly empty, with just a bit of shrub off to one side, so it didn't much matter where you sat. Jieyuan was about to do the same and drop where he stood, when Meiyao caught his eye.

She made a small gesture with her head, then crossed to the opposite edge of the pocket and sat down with her back to him. He'd had Maeva resume chanting a while back, but he called her off now as he walked over; for a brief while, the only sound was the soft crunch of his steps. Just as he reached Meiyao, she patted the ground beside her without looking his way.

"Sit." He was only too happy to oblige. He dropped down beside her, just shy of touching, aware of her in a faint but undeniable way that hummed just beneath his skin. Meiyao stared off into the mist, unreadable. Jieyuan waited, not saying a word. After a long while, Meiyao gave a small nod and turned fully toward him.

"Let's talk," she said.