The red eyes haunted me in my dreams. The few hours of sleep I managed to get late that night were plagued with the invisible fiends that moved too fast and had nearly killed us in the Valley of Screams. One of them clawed at me and startled me back to consciousness.

I sat up in bed, covered in cold sweat and breathing heavily, as yesterday’s events replayed in my mind. The windows to my room were covered with black shutters, keeping me in the cool safety of darkness.

We couldn’t reach out to Draven via Telluris. We’d tried, over and over, with no success. None of us could even feel him. After that, we even attempted to connect with each other here, on Neraka. That didn’t work either. And our phones were useless here. We’d been reduced to good old-fashioned verbal communication, face to face, or written. It sucked, and it put us on edge, but we’d come to this planet to investigate this string of mysterious disappearances and to help the Exiled Maras.

While their bloody past had gotten them cast out of Eritopia and settled on this planet, in a galaxy far away, they didn’t deserve to suffer like this—not after they’d rebuilt their lives and found better, more ethical ways to feed.

The Valley of Screams was dangerous. We’d experienced it firsthand. The gorges were tall, dark, and filled with deadly secrets that we couldn’t hear or see. We could only feel the pain they inflicted on us with sharp claws, and only caught glimpses of their fiery red eyes.

I got out of bed and slipped into the shower. I removed my bandages, as my side was completely healed. Only the memory of last night’s vicious fight lingered. I was determined to get to the bottom of whatever this was. Those creatures were not invincible. They had weak spots, and my mysterious rescuer had shown me one.

Who was he? He’d been quite aggressive, downright angry that we’d ventured into the Valley of Screams in the first place. As if it bothered him to come in and help us. He knew more than the other Exiled Maras and yet kept his identity secret, hidden beneath a black mask and a hood. There was definitely more to this mystery than just disappearances and families left grieving for their loved ones.

I put on another combat suit, this one made of navy-blue leather. I mounted the protective diamond-fiber plates and stocked up on weapons—my twin blades on my belt, two long knives on my back, two medium blades strapped to both thighs, plus two small knives in my boots. I added triangular, throwable blades from one of the utility satchels to my belt, along with healing capsules and powders for several minor defensive spells, courtesy of the now-defunct swamp witches.

I wasn’t going to underestimate those invisible creatures again.

I pulled my hair up in a ponytail, prepped my backpack with additional powders, herbs, and the spell scrolls, grabbed my round shield, and headed downstairs.

The Broken Bow Inn was quiet this morning. I figured it had to do with the Exiled Maras still sleeping at this early morning hour, while the Imen labored to get everything ready for lunch. The maids were preparing some of the spare rooms on the top floor, carrying armfuls of fresh linens upstairs, while the waiters wiped the tables and seating in the reception and bar area.

The bartender was busy wiping crystal glasses and metallic chalices when he saw me. His square face brightened with a smile, and he nodded politely and pointed at a dark green manual grinder.

“Good morning, milady!” he greeted, his voice warm and soft. “Would you like some coffee? Or perhaps blood? We have a fresh batch that was just delivered by our suppliers.”

“Suppliers?” I asked, taking my seat on one of the tall bar stools and placing my shield on the one next to me.

“Yes, milady.” He pulled a glass bottle from what looked like a refrigerator of sorts. I used my True Sight to study the cooler’s interior and noticed pale blue gems glowing on the bottom. I’d seen them before in a swamp witch scroll and assumed it was a cooling spell of sorts, to keep such sensitive drinks fresh. “Our city is home to a couple thousand moon-bison from which we draw blood. They’re well fed and looked after, so they can replenish and give blood each month. Every morning, we get bottles in, as the Imen farmers draw blood in batches. Would you like a glass?”

“Sure, and I’ll have a coffee, too, thank you,” I replied, then glanced around. “What are moon-bison?”

“Oh, they’re large herbivores, milady. Very gentle creatures. The Maras like their blood because it’s slightly sweeter than that of other creatures, and we enjoy their milk.”

They seemed to have acquired a good balance in Azure Heights. The Imen were treated well, despite their inferior, servile roles. They worked hard and helped provide basic food for the Maras by raising moon-bison, which seemed like a fair trade. The only thing that bugged me was the mind-bending that some had been subjected to, according to Avril and Heron.

I could see it, too, in the inn workers. This bartender seemed bright and sober, but the maids were blank and pale, creeping me out with their inability to look me in the eyes.

“What can you tell me about the Spring Ball?” I asked, then took a sip from the glass he filled with fresh blood. I would need to replenish my energy reserves, as well. I’d depleted most of my sentry stamina with the barriers I’d thrown at the invisible fiends last night. I’d have to ask Caia or Blaze to help me out, as their fiery minds were quite potent.

“Oh, it’s a wonderful event, milady!” the bartender said, grinding coffee and scooping it into a paper filter, while a kettle full of water boiled next to him on a hot metal plate. “Spring is, by far, one of the most beautiful seasons. Everything is in full bloom on the mountain, and the air is cool but the temperatures are perfect. Sure, there’s the occasional shower, but it’s barely anything. Most importantly, spring fruit is absolutely delicious. The Exiled Maras actually adopted the spring celebration from our people. The Imen have honored this season for eons.”

He poured hot water through the paper filter into a large white porcelain cup, then served my fresh coffee with a jar of honey.

“Thank you,” I said. “Have you ever been to the Spring Ball?”

“Once, milady, but I was working.” The Iman bartender smiled. “For your kind, it is an exquisite experience. I thoroughly recommend it. It’s highly entertaining, and a lot of effort is put into the seasonal blood dishes. And the costumes are simply stunning each year. The Exiled Maras love their fashion!”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” I smirked, watching two young Exiled Mara females take their seats outside on the covered terrace, while an Iman waiter took their order. They’d made quite the effort for breakfast, with beautifully tailored dresses in shades of pale green and yellow, with white ruffles and elegant headdresses.

The waiter came in and left an order for the bartender. I took it as my cue to go and enjoy my drink on the far edge of the platform. The awnings were huge and thick, excellent at keeping the shade constant over the entire terrace throughout the day, while at night they were pulled back, giving the Exiled Maras the pleasure of admiring the starry sky with its three moons.

I pulled one of the spare metal chairs outside to the edge and sat down, putting my feet up on the white marble balustrade bordering the platform. I took long sips from my drink, shield at my side, as I gazed at the wide plains and the Valley of Screams.

The fields were covered in soft green grass, and I could see large herbivores grazing in herds—they looked big enough to be the moon-bison that the bartender had mentioned. The assumption was further enforced by the Imen who were perched atop horses, keeping the creatures together.

The gorges looked beautiful in the distance, like gray limestone giants. Shadows filled the crevices, and massive sequoia-like trees were scattered along the edges. Streams of water poured out from several openings, spreading across the open plain. It would’ve resembled a little chunk of heaven, had it not been for the risk of death hiding inside.

“Still here, I see.” Caspian’s low, husky voice startled me, nearly making me jump out of my chair.

I spilled some coffee and cursed under my breath. I’d been so absorbed in the stunning view that I hadn’t even heard him stop next to me. I glanced up, but he didn’t look at me. He focused on the gorges with a cold, stern expression.

“Where else would I go?” I asked, already knowing what his answer would be based on our previous tense exchanges.

“Back to your world. Back to safety,” he replied.

“Not happening until we get to the bottom of this, and you know it,” I shot back, already feeling my decent morning spoiled. “It was Neraka that reached out to us in the first place.”

“I didn’t approve that.” His jade eyes found mine, and I stilled, clutching my coffee. “Besides, you’re in over your heads, and last night proved it.”

“Oh, because we actually saw those responsible for all these disappearances, and because we rescued one of their victims?” I raised an eyebrow, tension building in my stomach.

“Saw?”

“Kind of. You know what I mean,” I muttered, and looked away, his gaze too intense for my already-stretched nerves.

A minute passed in silence. The morning breeze brushed against my face, and his masculine fragrance instantly filled me up—a bold mixture of musk and hot spices. It did things to my senses, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

I gave him a sideways glance, focusing on his eyes. I wondered if he could be my masked savior. But the voice didn’t fit, and he was an absolute jerk, relentlessly antagonizing me over the course of the single day I’d been here.

He can’t be. I didn’t want him to be my savior, either. He’d been too thorny, always glaring and pushing back. I didn’t want to be indebted to him in any way.

“I’m planning to propose the relocation of our city,” he said, breaking my train of thought. “It’s time to consider moving somewhere less… deadly.”

“How come? I thought you were all determined to stay here and fight. Darius and Emilian were quite adamant about it.”

“I don’t care,” Caspian said. “GASP is clearly inept and nearly got one of our Lords killed. I have little to no faith in your ability to stop whatever those fiends are from taking more of our people. I’d rather push to gather all our resources, build some ships, and go farther down the shoreline, away from the gorges.”

I thought about this for a while, choosing to temporarily ignore his jab at GASP’s competence. He clearly hadn’t been there the other night—otherwise he wouldn’t have referred to me and my teammates as “useless”. The only useless one had been Darius, who had chosen to ride ahead and not come back to help us. I focused on the amount of logistical work required to move an entire city.

“Why don’t you use the swamp witches’ travel spell?” I asked, gulping down the last of my coffee.

“It doesn’t work with different locations on Neraka,” he replied. “It was designed purely for interplanetary travel.”

I nodded slowly. I didn’t know much about the spell itself. Viola had just recently discovered it in the swamp witches’ original tome of magic, so there had been no time to study it properly, like we’d done with the defensive charms and the invisibility spell.

“Do whatever you want.” I shrugged. “We’re still going to investigate and identify those creatures. And we’ll find a way to stop them or kill them.”

“Are you really that anxious to get killed?” Caspian scoffed.

“Not as anxious as you are to deem us incompetent,” I replied bluntly. “We actually know what we’re doing. Last night might seem like a botched operation to you, but we walked away with new and very important information. We will uncover the truth here, Caspian.”

His pupils dilated at the sound of his name, his eyes fixed on mine. The corner of his mouth twitched as he straightened his back and slowly turned to face me.

“Suit yourselves,” he said. “Just don’t expect anyone else in my city to risk their lives for you.”

He walked away, and I went back to watching the gorges, my blood boiling. He certainly had a way of aggravating me, and I had to give him due credit for such a feat. We’d known each other for less than a day and I already found myself longing to hurl heavy objects at his head.

I just couldn’t wrap my head around why he was so hard on me and my teammates. We were there to help, and his traditionalist viewpoints were counterproductive, to say the least. His vitriol was mostly aimed at me, though, and I couldn’t help but take it personally.

The real question I kept asking myself was why it bothered me so much that he was being such a jerk. I let out a long, exhausted sigh, then got up and handed the empty cup to the bartender.

The rest of our team came down shortly afterward. They’d all packed some extra weapons and healing capsules, as well. We then headed down the mountain to check in on Patrik and the Iman girl. They’d been wounded in the Valley of Screams last night, and we’d left them both under Scarlett’s watchful eye in the infirmary. During the descent, I glanced over my shoulder every now and then, noticing how many of the Exiled Maras stopped in their tracks and quietly watched us.

Their lack of expression and persistent staring creeped me out.