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“You … you’re joking.”

“I’m not.” This time, he smirked.

Kolfinna couldn’t mask her horror and audibly gasped. She washuggingBlár Vilulf in her sleep? The mere thought was bizarre and preposterous. She hated the man! Her own body had betrayed her. Now that she thought about it, as a child, she always woke up clinging to Katla when they used to sleep in the same bed together.

“Let’s get a move on.” He sighed. “I highly doubt yesterday was our only run-in with thatthing.”

Right. She needed to focus on the matter at hand: the dreki. Kolfinna pushed all her embarrassments to the side and straightened at once. The dreki was a creature they knew nothing about. Even the magic beasts were nothing like this.

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” she asked as she poked her head out of the cave. She squinted in the early morning light but didn’t see anything except sand and rocks, the same as yesterday. Not even insects buzzed around. It was dreadfully silent, save for the howl of the wind.“Or any of the monsters we’ve encountered?”

“No.” He joined her and scanned the horizon. “The magic beasts I’ve encountered aren’t as big or as powerful. Magic beasts are just animals that have mana.ButI’ve heard of stories about beasts that look like that. Depends on where you go. It’s regional, I think. Those dogs we saw, for instance—that wasn’t too strange. The closer you get to the Great Divide, however, the weirder the magic beasts get. But those walking dead looking corpses from that ship? No way in hell have I ever seen or heard anything like that.”

The two suns greeted Kolfinna when she stepped out of the cave. A gust of wind blew sand into her eyes and she blinked away the grittiness. Blár’s cloak lashed against her thighs with the wind. He shifted the corner of it so it didn’t strike her, and she momentarily felt her cheeks warm at the small gesture.

“We’ll die by starvation and thirst, or from that monster.” Kolfinna’s stomach growled loudly as they trekked in a random direction.

“Don’t talk like that.” Blár’s tone was harsh. “You’re not dying out here. And neither am I.”

“Are you trying to console me?” Kolfinna fought the wry smile twitching her lips. If someone had told her a year ago that Blár Vilulf would attempt to comfort her in any way, she would’ve lost her mind. But then again, maybe she was losing her mind because she couldn’t help but think he wasn’tthatbad of a person.

“No way.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I’m the last person you should go to for consolation.”

Kolfinna’s throat dried up and they continued for a few minutes. The sun relentlessly beat down on them. “We need water,” she said quietly. “Food is important, but water is more important.”

“I know.”

“Maybe we should find a source of water first.”

“We don’t even know if there’s any water out there.”

“We can’t just give up.”

“I didn’t say that.”

They walked in silence for a while, their boots sinking into the sand. Kolfinna’s thighs, calves, and butt burned with exertion from trudging through the sand. She had never pushed her body to the limit, but it sure felt like she was reaching a limit. Not to mention her body was littered with bruises and wounds. To make matters worse, the beating rays of the suns seemed bent on peeling her skin away.

Kolfinna leaned down and rubbed her aching right leg. All that running made the soles of her foot, her ankle, and her calf throb like it was half-broken again.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm?” She raised her head to look up at him.

“Your leg …” Blár stared at her and an unreadable look flitted over his face.

“What about it?”

“It’s … I really did that, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Screw you.”

“I didn’t mean that in a smug way—”

“Screw you, nonetheless.” Kolfinna waved to her leg. “Thanks to you, my leg is messed up permanently. I don’t care which way you meant it. Thanks to you, I can’t run like you, or walk fast, or be on my feet for too long without being in excruciating pain—”

“You’re full of sunshine early in the morning.”

“Screw you.”