60th of Season of Water, 161st year of the 32nd cycle

  Six moons passed in peace. Initially, those with air-aligned mana worked in shifts, filtering the air and making it breathable every couple of hours, but otherwise, most people spent their time either in training or in meditation.

  During the first few days, Chaplain Longfang’s great-grandson scribed several runic seals, which cleared the air constantly without the need for anyone to do anything, thus freeing his seniors for more constructive tasks.

  Time blurred until one day, a chime rang, pulling Newt out of his realm. He opened his eyes and saw others rousing. He looked around and spotted Darksong, Passingcloud, and Deepsea standing straight at the center of the cave.

  Slowly, the crowd gathered around them. What used to be twenty-five hundred people when they started into the Summersweald, was cut down to less than three hundred, mostly higher realm champions, along with the best amongst the juniors, whom they had saved, or those who were their friends and family or that of their acquaintances.

  Newt felt a bit guilty about saving the fourth realm mage Flameax had asked him to look out for instead of some talented student. Luckily, Darksong and his two peers seemed more objective in their effort to save the Explorer’s Gate’s elites.

  Still, with everyone gathered and ready to leave, it was clear just how horrible their losses were. Not as bad as the Swordpeaks’, but certainly worse than what the Tidebreakers had suffered.

  “Exemplar Whitesnow has returned from his scouting mission. The jungle, while not fully regenerated, has greatly recovered. Enough to protect us from aerial scouting as well as giving us cover so nobody can spot us from a distance.”

  Passingcloud paused, and a wave of murmurs passed through the crowd before going silent the next moment.

  “We’re thirteen thousand miles away from the empire. Given that we no longer have the majority of our troops, we should cover at least a hundred miles a day, preferably two hundred, but we shall see how we do on the first day. Any questions?”

  Nobody said a word. The plan was to leave the jungle in two to four moons, and while they could travel much faster, there was no rush, and closely guarding the few surviving juniors seemed like a priority.

  They could, in theory, throw all caution to the wind, and just rush out of the jungle, but the disturbance could draw the attention of powerful saurians, and perhaps even that of more malicious elements.

  “All right,” Passingcloud continued after scanning the gathering. “In that case, we’re leaving in half an hour. Gather whatever things you may have scattered about and let’s get out of this forsaken place.”

  By the time the group reached the outside world, the sun had already set, with trees obscuring the sky and stars. Newt flew into the canopy and looked up, but found only clouds, neither moon nor clouds shone in the dark night.

  Fires would’ve been easy to spot in the pitch blackness, but Newt spotted none, nor any other hints of human activity.

  “We’re either alone, or whoever is around is taking precautions so as not to be found,” he told Maelstrom as she landed next to him.

  “Did you really just ignore me for half a year?” she asked incredulously.

  “You seemed angry and as if you needed time to calm down.”

  “You’re so full of it.”

  “What? I was acting perfectly rationally—”

  “Your mother warned me you’ll be like this. She said your father’s the same.”

  Newt wasn’t certain what he disliked more - that his mother had compared him to his father, or that she had issued warnings about him to his fiancée.

  “We should get going.”

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  “She also said that you will change the topic whenever you don’t know what to say or disagree with me, but that you’ll rarely stand your ground and argue back.”

  “I dislike confrontations,” Newt snapped.

  Maelstrom smiled and gave him a look. He didn’t know what the look meant, but it certainly had a meaning. Before he could say a word, Maelstrom hopped off the tree, and she was away with the Tidebreaker group.

  Newt scowled. I wonder if there was something about understanding women in Dandelion’s notes? He said he had put all his important manuals in the spatial pouch.

  He joined the Explorer’s Gate’s champions, and they advanced northward until two hours after sunrise, covering a hundred and fifty miles.

  Days passed with nothing extraordinary happening, until ten days after departure, and seventeen hundred miles closer to the human lands, the jungle gradually changed.

  Instead of just new growth, the jungle had some ancient trees too. Some were destroyed and uprooted, but most remained intact. The destruction caused by the saurian exalts was localized further south. On the other hand, it was hard to call it localized, considering the area of destruction had a radius of four thousand miles.

  The retreat progressed smoothly, the group covering between one hundred and fifty and two hundred and fifty miles every day, and seventy-two days after leaving the safety of their shelter, the remnants of three expeditions reached the Eternal Light empire.

  The countryside appeared disturbingly normal. People farming and working like nothing had happened. Like an outer god hadn’t descended, and like saurian experts hadn’t been fighting and reshaping the land within flight distance of the said monsters.

  “What now?” He heard more than one youngster whisper.

  “We head for the nearest imperial city and report,” Breeze, a sixth realm retainer of the Swordpeaks answered. “Heresy hunters will probably want a word with us, and once everything is settled, we’re going back home.”

  Newt had an uneasy feeling things won’t be so simple. Not for him. Not for Maelstrom. He looked towards her, only to find her gazing at him as well. Without exchanging a word, they moved towards each other, and while the others made camp, Newt drew Dandelion’s privacy screen.

  “What do we do?” she asked, and Newt raised his chin just a bit, feeling vindicated for all the times she had made fun of him.

  “We have to tell the truth to the heresy hunters, but we have to discuss what the truth is. Otherwise, we’re both finished. Have you ever been interrogated by the heresy hunters?”

  Maelstrom nodded.

  “All right, then you can question me first. Then I’ll question you, and we’ll repeat the process until we have the answers we want and make sure we’re telling the absolute truth.”

  Maelstrom licked her tongue, and started. “Can you tell me what happened? Starting with the cultists’ attack.”

  Right away, Newt encountered a problem. The Dreadfire seals. Why did he make them? How did he know he should make them?

  Maelstrom didn’t have that problem. They had the Swordpeaks ambush their ambushers, but Newstar had set up a killing ground. He discussed it with Maelstrom, and slowly they worked out a solution.

  He received a warning from his friend, Dandelion Blackfist, who told him to set up the traps. No, he didn’t have the message. Yes, he destroyed it, along with the rest, so nobody else could see them. No, he didn’t consider the heresy hunters his enemies. No, he didn’t destroy them to hide the correspondence specifically from the heresy hunters, but from everyone.

  Why everyone? Because Dandelion was paranoid and told Newt to be paranoid too. Maelstrom had a similar answer to some unlikely questions.

  They drilled for hours until Deepsea broke the barrier.

  “We’re leaving.”

  Day after day, Newt and Maelstrom perfected their stories, searching for plausible and correct answers. They started with logical questions they would almost certainly hear, then drifted into what Newt thought bordered on insanity.

  “Why would I eat dinner prepared by the cultists if they captured me alive? I don’t even have to eat.”

  Maelstrom shrugged. “Answer the question.”

  “I think you’re getting too into this and turning it into a game,” Newt said instead of answering.

  “You’re still avoiding the question, Sir Salamandra. Now, would you rather eat fried gooders or fresh tomatoes?”

  “The gooders. What kind of a question is that?”

  “A vital one. Gooders are the most common vegetable where I come from. They grow well underground, in the glacier gardens, while tomatoes are imported, and quite frankly nowhere as good as they are around here.”

  “Maelstrom, you’re going off on a tangent again. I think we’re ready for the interrogation. As ready as we can be.”

  “Not quite.” Maelstrom shook her head. “Have you ever seen Maelstrom Tidebreaker’s dessicated body impaled on a stake?”

  “What sick question is that, Mel?”

  “Answer the question, Pumpkin. Otherwise, we’re smashing you.”

  Newt grabbed her hand, and Maelstrom didn’t back away. “It was one of the most awful things I’ve ever seen, Mel, and I hope you didn’t see me like that.”

  Maelstrom’s jaw tightened.

  “Listen. It didn’t happen. Not really. We’re here, we’re alive, and we’re going to stay alive for a very long time. Do you hear me? We’re fine, and the heresy hunters won’t find a crack in our story, because there isn’t one. Even if we told them the truth, more likely than not they would think us crazy.”