The mountain air was a living thing, cold and sharp, pressing against Tari's skin like invisible needles. Up here, the atmosphere was different from the humid, suffocating heat of the lower jungles. It was thin and brittle. Thick, white mist crawled across the jagged stone paths, swirling around their ankles like a sea of restless ghosts, it was an ocean of clouds . They were high in the peaks now, navigating a narrow ledge that felt like the edge of the world.
"Keep your eyes open and your mouths shut,"
Mira commanded. Her voice was a low rasp that somehow cut through the whistling wind. She walked at the head of the line, her posture rigid, her hand never straying far from the hilt of her blade.
Tari shivered, pulling her thin tunic tighter. She looked around, her eyes straining to pierce the gloom. Mira's earlier announcement about something stalking them had her on edge,but she felt like she was the only one overreacting . This path was supposedly a safe route—a sanctuary where only aerial creatures nested. The massive, terrestrial predators of Jotunheim didn't bother climbing this high; the giant birds and fusion-beasts that lived here weren't a stable enough food source for the true behemoths. But safe was a relative term on an island designed to kill you. To Tari, the silence of the heights felt like a trap waiting to spring.
Suddenly, Mira came to a dead halt. She raised a fist, signaling the crew to stop. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of Tari's own blood rushing in her ears. Tari's heart hammered against her ribs. She was defenseless, her hands empty. If an attack came from the mist, she was nothing more than a snack for whatever lived in the clouds.
Mira tilted her head, her nostrils flaring as if she could scent the very air for danger. She stared into the thickest part of the fog, her eyes narrowing. The crew members behind her shifted their weight, their hands flying to their weapons. The metallic shring of swords being partially unsheathed rang out, sounding like a death knell in the quiet.
Then, the mist exploded.
Something massive surged through the white veil. It was fast—impossibly fast for its size—and covered in coarse, matted hair that shimmered with frost. It let out a series of wet, rhythmic puffs, like a steam engine struggling up a hill.
"Contact!"
one of the soldiers yelled, dropping into a defensive stance.
Tari scrambled backward, her heel catching on a loose stone. She braced for the impact, for the teeth, for the end. But the creature didn't turn toward them. It thundered past, a blur of brown fur and massive, sweeping antlers that looked like bleached branches. The wind of its passage almost knocked Tari off her feet, smelling of pine and old musk.
Mira let out a long, sharp exhale that was half-sigh, half-growl.
"Mountain Moose!"
she announced, her voice dripping with annoyance. "It's a stray. Must've been separated from its herd and spooked by something else. Everyone, stand down before you trip over your own shadows."
A wave of relief washed over the crew, followed by the low murmur of nervous laughter. Tari stayed on the ground for a moment, her breath coming in short rapid bursts . Just an animal, she thought, her heart slowly slowing its frantic pace. On this island, a regular animal was a rare sight—a relic of a world that hadn't been twisted into a nightmare. Most normal creatures were either extinct or hiding in the deepest shadows, hunted to near-extinction by the island's true masters.
The crew loosened up instantly. The tension that had held them like a coiled spring snapped, replaced by the rowdy energy of soldiers who had cheated death for another hour. They began to trek again, their voices rising in loud, boisterous gisting. They talked about meals they missed, the warmth of the lower camps, and the monsters they'd managed to avoid. To them, the heaven of clouds was a welcome break, a smooth journey toward home.
Mira, however, did not join the celebration. She slowed her pace, drifting back through the line until she was walking stride-for-stride with Tari. Tari's skin crawled. She wanted to vanish into the mist, to be anywhere but under the shadow of the woman they called Wisp. Mira's presence felt heavier than the mountain itself, a suffocating force that demanded attention.
"What did Merlin tell you, Ember?"
Mira asked. Her voice was deceptively gentle, like the purr of a leopard before it strikes.
Tari stared straight ahead at the back of the soldier in front of her. She remembered the unspoken rules of this place. 'Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't speak while the masters speak.' She chose the safest path: silence. It was also an reasonable excuse to ignore her.
Mira clicked her tongue, a sharp, mean sound.
"Oh, look at you. So obedient all of a sudden. I'm giving you a pass, girl. You may speak. In fact, I'm ordering it."
Tari felt a flash of hot anger. Who does she think she is? Madam Boss Lady? She gritted her teeth, but she knew she couldn't win a fight here—not yet.
"Nothing much to worry about, actually," Tari replied, her voice clipped.
"Nothing much?"
Mira stepped closer, her shoulder brushing Tari's. "Merlin doesn't waste breath on 'nothing much.' He's a man of secrets and gears. If he pulled you aside, it wasn't to talk about the weather. What exactly did he say, Ember?"
Tari stopped and looked Mira directly in the eyes.
"It's a matter between me and the Alchemist, Wisp. I intend to keep it that way."
Mira's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. She hissed, a sound that wasn't quite human.
"Fine. Keep your little secrets. Wrap them up and sleep with them if it makes you feel important. Just remember that tomorrow, I'm the one who decides how hard you hit the dirt. I hope you keep that arrogant attitude when you're crawling through the mud."
With a mocking smirk, Mira shoved past her, her elbow catching Tari's ribs with unnecessary force. Tari stumbled, clutching her side, watching the woman march back to the front of the line. Mean, power-tripping snake, Tari thought, her mind already racing toward the future. How long would this training take? When would she see Aisha? The promise of her sister's safety felt flimsy when they were miles apart. She felt a deep, gnawing need to have Aisha close, to be the one standing between her sister and this hellscape.
A shadow passed over them, accompanied by a deafening, metallic caw. Tari looked up just in time to see a massive wingspan—perhaps thirty feet across—dip just inches above the mist. It looked like a pterodactyl carved from obsidian, with the serrated beak of a hawk and scales that glittered like oil on water.
Harpy? Tari wondered. No, too sleek. An Amphi-dragon? No, those are huge. It was a fusion beast, a stitched-together terror of the skies. No one else even looked up; the soldiers continued their chattering, a sign that this particular nightmare wasn't a threat as long as they stayed on the path.
They walked for hours as the world turned from white to a deep, bruising violet. The sun dipped toward the horizon, and the haze finally thinned as they approached a massive, yawning opening in the mountainside.
They entered the mouth of a cave, but it wasn't the dark, damp hole Tari expected. It was a grotto of impossible beauty. A crystal-clear underground lake filled the center, its surface dotted with oversized lilies that glowed with a faint, bioluminescent green. The walls weren't just stone; they were encrusted with massive, raw gemstones that pulsed with a rhythmic, golden light, mimicking a heartbeat. The air here was warm and smelled of rain and sweet nectar. Tari imagined a warm bath at the lake while sipping lemonade.
"Seven minutes,"
Mira's voice cut through the wonder. "We have exactly seven minutes to clear this section, or we'll be pedestals before the moon hits its peak. Let's move, gentlemen!"
Tari's jaw dropped. 'Hello? There's a lady here, you blind bat!' she screamed internally. But the word Pedestals chilled her blood more than the mountain air had. She looked around the beautiful shrine. Who would want to turn someone into stone in a place like this?
She hurried her pace, catching up to a young man who looked like he was about to collapse under the weight of a massive, metallic backpack. He was sweating profusely despite the cool air of the cave.
"Hey,"
Tari whispered. "What does she mean? What are 'pedestals'?"
The boy shifted his frame, his breath coming in wheezes.
"This is Gorgon's Cove, missy. The Gorgons live here. They converge at night to... well, to feed."
"Do they eat flesh?"
Tari asked, her eyes darting toward the dark crevices in the glowing walls.
"Worse,"
the boy said, his voice trembling. "They don't want your meat. They turn your body into stone—solid, grey rock. Then they feed on your essence. Your life force, your energy... they suck it out of the stone until you're just an empty husk. A statue left behind to decorate their home. That's why Mira said Pedestals"
Tari froze for a second, a mental image of a thousand stone victims filling her mind.
"But... I don't see anything. Where are they?"
"You won't see them," the boy said, walking faster. "They're invisible to the naked eye. They only show up in a special smoke screen we use back at camp. This is their last nesting ground. They're rare, but they're the absolute worst. They're smarter than the rest of the monsters, almost acting human. If we aren't out by the time the moon is full, we're as good as granite."
Tari felt a phantom itch on her neck. She was tempted to reach into her pocket for her spectrum goggles, the ones Merlin had tinkered with, but she stopped herself. If she saw them—if she saw a dozen invisible monsters standing just inches away in the beautiful light—she knew she would scream. And screaming in the Gorgon's Cove seemed like a very bad idea.
They practically ran the last few hundred yards, exiting the grotto into a wide, open valley just as the first sliver of the moon appeared over the peaks. The boy with the backpack let out a shaky breath.
"They won't follow us out here,"
he explained, wiping sweat from his brow. "The Gorgons are vulnerable to light. Not just the sun—the moon reflects enough sunlight to burn them. They stay in the deep caves and the densest parts of the jungle. This valley is a buffer. Nothing dares to cross through Gorgon territory to get here, and they won't leave their cave. It makes the camp the safest place on this paths ."
Mira stepped to the edge of a cliff and pulled a metal tube from her belt. She twisted the base and fired. A brilliant green flare shot into the night sky, illuminating the valley in an eerie emerald glow.
"It's a friendly signal,"
the boy said, seeing Tari's wide eyes. "Green means 'all clear' or 'mission success.' Yellow is for alertness—if something is weird. Red... well, if you see a red flare, you start running and you don't stop until your lungs burst."
He extended a grimy hand.
"I'm Balam. I'm the language guy. Folks her call me Bandicoot, some Scribe, so choose any. I handle communications with the different tribal remnants and the castaways. Don't ask about the name. My parents had a weird sense of humor—naming me after a guy who got yelled at and ridiculed by a donkey."
Tari managed a small, genuine smile.
"I'm Ember,"
she said, sticking to her alias.
"Nice to meet you, Ember. Nice name. A bit fiery,"
Balam joked, though his eyes were serious. "Watch your back here. The training... it's not just practice. It's meant to break you. I was born here, in the Jotunheim camp, so I've seen it all. I've seen people go in walking and come out in a chair—if they come out at all."
Tari felt the weight of his words. Being born on this island... she couldn't imagine it. She'd been here for barely two weeks, and she already felt like her soul had been scrubbed raw. To know nothing but the monsters and the mist for sixteen years? That was a life sentence.
"You're a castaway, right?"
Balam asked, his voice low. "Washed up on the shore about two weeks ago?"
Tari flinched.
"How did you know that?"
Balam chuckled, a dry, hollow sound. "Your face is too new. And news travel fast here . I know everyone in Jotunheim. There are about 300 of us—warriors, regulars, and the survivors. Some die the moment they hit the sand. The Beach Hounds are always hungry. You're lucky, Ember. Most people don't make it past the first night."
"Lucky,"
Tari repeated, the word tasting like ash.
"Yeah. Real lucky."
"Quit the chatter, you two!"
Mira's voice boomed from the front. She didn't even turn around, yet she seemed to know exactly who was talking. "Balam, if you have enough breath to gossip, you have enough breath to carry another pack!"
Balam went silent instantly, his head dropping.
They finally reached the camp. It was a marvel of primitive engineering. Massive trees, their trunks as wide as houses, served as the foundation. High in the branches, sentry huts hung like oversized bird nests, with warriors perched inside, their bows trained on the darkness below.
Kenna, the leader of the Sentinel warriors, emerged from a large central hut. She didn't wear the harsh expression Mira did. She looked tired, but there was a warmth in her eyes as she surveyed the returning squad.
"I'm glad you arrived safely, my friends," Kenna said, her voice carrying easily through the clearing. "Thank you for your hard work, Wisp. Everyone, rest. Get food. Tomorrow is a day that will demand everything from you. Sleep tight."
The soldiers dispersed quickly, vanishing into various encampments and tree-houses. Tari began to look for a quiet corner, a place to finally close her eyes, but Mira's voice cut through her hope like a jagged rock, with a final announcement.
"Everyone meets at Crow's Peak before the first light!"
Mira announced to the clearing. "If you aren't there when the sun touches the stone, you'll wish the Gorgons had found you!"
She turned, her eyes locking onto Tari, who was trying to slip away.
"Hey, Ember! You're with me,"
Mira roared. "Move it! I'm not losing sight of my new project."
Tari cursed under her breath, her heart sinking. She looked up at the dark, whispering trees, the distant howls of the island's predators echoing in the night. This wasn't a camp. It was a cage. And Mira was the one holding the keys.
As she reluctantly followed Mira toward a dark hut high in the branches, Tari looked back one last time at the mountain path. Somewhere out there, Aisha was waiting. And somewhere in the dark, the Pit of Shame was existing .
As Tari enters Mira's quarters, she notices a stack of files on a desk. The table was a mess, illuminated by an oil lantern where moths hovered. The top one is open, and a blurred sketch of someone is pinned to the page with a single word written in red ink across the bottom: TARGET.