Tumbling down, then rolling in the wind, then gliding on wings. Hush. Hush seized Irene by her belt and Irene held onto Saul’s wrist. He looked into the rushing wind. He did not see Olivia or Vulture falling. The storm carried them toward the Tangle.

  “Olivia,” he said, looking around for her in a panic.

  “Vulture was fighting her,” said Irene. “She is still alive.”

  A surge of gratitude welled up from within Saul. He swallowed any reply he could have mustered for Irene as their descent continued. Hush was not strong enough to keep them aloft for long, despite his supremely powerful wings.

  They passed between thorny trees and iridescent flowers in the Tangle’s upper layers. Hush began to lose altitude rapidly. Branches battered Irene and Saul. Thorns slashed at their clothes and skin. By the time they reached a clearing coated in dark grass within the forest, both of them were bleeding from small cuts and breathless from the speed of the descent.

  Hush released Irene’s belt and they tumbled the last few feet to the ground. Saul landed beside Irene and then rolled onto his back. He drew in deep breaths, hoping to feel safe for being on solid ground again. His eyes searched the air above for signs of Olivia or Vulture. He saw none.

  An alien smell wafted in the air, but not the bitterness of gern. Sweet, like fresh flowers. Not surprising, given the growths of bright petals throughout the tangle. He sat up. Irene shook herself with a groan but remained on the ground.

  “Are you alright?” He leaned toward her.

  She groaned again but did not roll over. “Saul, why did I ever bother helping you?”

  “History?”

  “Could be.” She pushed herself up on her hands and knees. Blood dripped from cuts in her torn sleeves and leggings. “I’m a mess.” She sat down, back to his.

  “We both are,” he said.

  “I’m…” She took a deep breath. “…Sorry about before. I shouldn’t have expected you to feel the way you once did.”

  He shook his head, mouth suddenly dry. Her back pressed to his was warm. He could feel her breathing.

  Saul sighed. “I didn’t expect you to say something like that.”

  “Not from me, right?” She gave a sob. “Saul, I miss you.”

  “That makes one of us.” He leaned his back against hers. A flurry of wings came from the sky, but Saul knew at once they were not lear birds. The winds blowing into the tangle were too strong for the Dancer to risk her people, even for her makers.

  Saul scowled at the approaching flock of gern. Small lights glimmered at the center of each set of bat-like wings. “Time to fight,” he said. “Hush has your sword, correct?”

  “Yes,” said Irene. She pushed off of him gently. On her feet, she turned to face the approaching creatures. “I will deal with them.”

  “We will.” He retrieved his oven rod and twirled it between his fingers. “Don’t forget, I’m still here.”

  “If you really are,” she said.

  They faced the dozen or so gern, grim and surrounded in enemy territory. Saul’s eyes watered as the beasts flew down from out of the light’s glare.

  Irene’s sword flashed through one of them. The blade flickered with ignition. Saul stayed close to her, while Hush took to the air, shooting jets of flame at any gern that tried to flank the two makers.

  One gern, still airborne, knocked the bird child down with a sweep of a barbed tail.

  Saul whirled, knowing he would be too late to save Hush if the gern chose to finish him off.

  Irene’s blade cleaved into another monster behind him. The dying gern roared as it fell.

  Saul’s eyes fell on the spot where Hush should have been. The bird child rested in Olivia’s arms.

  She appeared far less battered than Saul or Irene, though the cut Vulture had given her on the shoulder was dark with blood. The gern that swatted Hush sizzled with jolts from taser prongs where it lay at Olivia’s feet. Saul’s eyes widened when he saw her.

  “Olivia, you made it!”

  “Thanks to that Vulture.” Olivia winced. “She held onto me and glided all the way down here.”

  “You’re serious? I thought she was trying to kill us?”

  Vulture’s voice answered, annoyance obvious, from Saul’s side. “I could not see another way to prolong my own survival, given the number of gern nearby. Otherwise, I might have made another decision.”

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  “Good to know,” Saul said. He spun and jabbed at a gern creeping toward Irene from her side. His oven rod found the beast’s face. He sparked the seal and the gern cooked from the head down. It steamed and fell to the ground.

  For a moment, Saul glowered at the dead monster. Irene retreated toward him. The remaining gern took to the air or fled into the gaps between the thorny trees surrounding them.

  Saul nodded to Irene. “Good job.”

  She clasped his shoulder with one hand. “Thank you. Now, we need to get back to Grandtalon. The Tangle is not safe.”

  Olivia pointed through the gap in the trees. “Up there? At least we can keep our eyes on it.”

  Irene nodded. Vulture gave a rasping sigh. “I will assist you, as long as it helps my vessel and I survive.”

  Olivia wrinkled her nose. “Thanks for the ride down here, but you’re pretty much saying we can’t trust you.”

  “Is that new information for you?” Vulture turned her back. Kari’s cross-shaped hairpins bounced in her hair.

  Saul breathed deep, even. His hands were steady. “We need all the help we can get right now. This forest is abei-gern central, from what we can tell.”

  “I don’t like it. But you’re right,” said Olivia.

  Irene sniffed. “This way.” She pointed down an arched pathway through the thorny trees. “I remember a little bit about this place. What it used to be. We’re near the area where Apahar emerged.”

  Saul folded his arms. “That explains why the gern congregated here.” His gaze lingered on the cut Vulture had dealt Olivia on the shoulder. “We need to make sure none of these wounds are serious.”

  “Agreed,” said Irene.

  They dressed their more serious wounds as best they could with scraps of cloth.

  Saul said, “Lead on, Irene.”

  Irene ignited her blade for light, and they proceeded down the darkened path.

  * * *

  The group followed Irene’s burning sword through the shadows of the Tangle’s trees. They passed by springs of dark water, pools of luminous sludge from which emerged dark-petaled flowers on high stalks, and thickets so dense nothing could possibly fit through the crevices. Yet, the path they followed was broad and mostly clear of debris and undergrowth. The wind did not feel as harsh this far from the storm heart and sheltered beneath the creaking limbs of thorny trees.

  They spoke little, trying to keep alert. Saul could feel the presence of gern not far away, but always they remained out of sight. The beacon of Irene’s weapon and the bloody battle they had fought where they had landed appeared to send a compelling message to the monsters.

  Saul could not help the occasional sideways glance at Olivia, who walked nearby. She looked little worse for wear after they had dressed her shoulder wound. She walked with confidence, not bothering to hide the pale scars by her ear, where the gern had cut her years ago before she began to hunt them.

  Saul wondered on the circumstances of that event. She once told him a friend of hers had been killed by gern, but nothing else about her enlightenment to the existence of monsters had really come out. In time, he told himself. They would talk in time. Yet, as he walked, his curiosity grew.

  “Olivia,” he said after an hour or so of following Irene’s firelight.

  “Yeah?”

  “About how long have you hunted gern?”

  “About five years. I don’t know what that has to do with anything now.”

  “Huh,” Saul said. “I was exiled to Earth about the same time you first found out.”

  She grimaced. “It’s not a pleasant memory. I wish I knew why some gern want to eat people, and most of them never attack humans on Earth.”

  Vulture gave a cackle of laughter. “That,” she croaked, “Is a good question, exile.”

  “You have any idea?” Olivia asked, turning toward the art-child.

  “None,” said Vulture. “Even my maker does not know the answer to your question.”

  Irene sniffed. “Simon is a guardian. He might fancy himself a gern-fighter, but in reality, he is a pawn of the council. From what I’ve seen his loyalty to them is absolute.”

  “Seems that way,” said Saul with a frown. “He did keep me from dying back in Kerenger though.”

  “So he could interrogate you,” said Olivia.

  “Or just to save them the trouble of tracking you down when you were reborn on Hidria,” said Irene.

  “He told me something along those lines,” Saul admitted. “But he also said it would be a shame to lose my skills.”

  “That, I can believe,” said Irene. “You’re still an exceptional maker, Saul.”

  He shrugged. “Not exceptional enough to protect this world we made.”

  “Don’t do that,” said Olivia softly. “You never meant for any of these things to happen.”

  “Yeah, but I let them.” He sighed, sorry that he had started this conversation. “Look, once we get back to Grandtalon, I want to offer the Dancer all the help I can. We still need to stop Apahar, but if he’s using Selere as a staging area, this could be the right place to fight him.”

  “Good point,” said Irene.

  “And we’ll risk less collateral damage than if we fought on Earth,” said Olivia. “I could go along with this.”

  Vulture remained silent.

  Nat’s head popped up from Saul’s pocket. “Saul, I sense shadows moving this way above the treetops. They aren’t gern.”

  “What are they, Nat?” asked Olivia.

  “Art-children,” said Nat. “And they don’t seem like natives of this world.”

  Irene rounded on Vulture. “Is Simon on this world?”

  “Master had to come here, or I would not have been able to retake this vessel,” said the child. She backed away from the three humans, Nat, and Hush. “Those are my siblings on their way toward us.”

  “Crow and Eagle,” said Saul. “Damn it. This is not good.”

  As he spoke two shapes broke through the canopy and dropped onto the path in front of them. One wore all black. Crow. The other’s cloak flowed white. Eagle.

  Saul grabbed his oven rod, knowing the weapon would do little good against the enhanced speed and power of the art-children. Even a heavily overweighted sword would be a great advantage in this situation. He glared at Eagle and Crow.

  “You came all the way here for us? Well, at least your maker knows this world is real.”

  “Indeed,” said Simon, as he walked up the path to stand beside Vulture. “Now, surrender, Burton. I promise you will receive a fair judgment.”

  “I’ve already been judged, remember?” Saul’s gaze moved to Simon’s face. The man held a razor blade in each hand. Saul’s empty hand clenched into a fist. “I’ll take a fair fight over a fair death sentence.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Burton. This forest is full of gern. If we fight here, they will glory in the chance to kill us all.”

  “Makers are tasty to them,” said Olivia. “Now that we’re all in one place, what’s to say they won’t strike first?”

  Irene put both hands on the hilt of her ignition blade. “Saul, I’ll back you, whatever you choose.”

  “Fight or surrender?” Saul shook his head. “There is no real choice between those two.”

  Simon shrugged and prepared one of his razors to throw, aiming at Olivia. “Last warning, Burton.”

  Then a terrible, rumbling cry echoed from above. Vast eyes gazed down at them through the gaps in the branches. Saul swallowed. The pale form of the enormous gern that pursued them across the worlds three months ago, loomed over the forest, surrounded by dozens of smaller monsters.

  “I choose, flee,” he said.

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