As if on cue, we reached the edge of a cliff, the land dropping away before us, and the reason this place was called the World Scar became abundantly clear.
A sullen black-and-red landscape stretched before us, like an open wound on the surface of the world. Jagged obsidian spikes rose from lakes of bubbling magma, the glowing pools covering the entire floor of the valley. There were no roads, no bridges, no safe paths across the scarred landscape; just the obsidian spikes and broken chunks of rock lying half submerged in the lava. The air was tinged with smoke, and white clouds of steam vented from cracks in the stones, curling into the persistent haze. Even from where we stood, I could feel the heat radiating from the valley.
Far, far in the distance, perched on what seemed like a ridiculously thin spire rising out of the lava, a looming black temple waited, silhouetted against the haze.
“Oh, is that all that’s out here,” Halek remarked. “A scary-looking temple in the middle of a lava-filled wasteland. Why did the Deathless think this was going to be difficult?”
No one laughed. I drew in a slow breath, the air scratching my throat as it went down. It tasted of smoke and ash. “How are we going to get across?” I wondered.
Kysa gazed down the mountain, surveying the valley witha grim, appraising eye. “There are no paths we can take without having to cross the lava,” she said. “Most of those gaps are far too large to walk across.”
“Um, just out of curiosity,” Halek wondered, “how high can a rock beetle jump?”
Kysa frowned back at him. “Rock beetles don’t jump,” she said. “They are not crickets. If there is a place they cannot get to by walking, they will fly, but they are too heavy to jump more than a few inches. Which is problematic, given the situation with Ratuk.”
Ratuk suddenly raised his head, as if seeing the valley for the first time. He huffed, tossing his horn, and his carapace split open behind the saddle, wings buzzing. My heart jumped in my chest.
“I think Ratuk wants to fly,” I said, looking back at the beetle’s wings. “I think he’s saying he can do it.”
Kysa pursed her lips. “He is still injured,” she said doubtfully. “If he pushes himself and makes the injury worse, it might cripple him this time. A rock beetle’s wings are their most vulnerable part—if he splits the membrane completely, it will never heal.”
“I don’t believe we have a choice, Kysa,” Raithe said behind me. “There’s no direct path over the lava. We’ll have to get across the gaps somehow. Unless we want to leave Ratuk behind, he’s going to have to fly.”
“Maybe if we just do short hops,” I said, as Kysa’s jaw tightened. “We won’t be in the air longer than we have to. If we fly from rock to rock, that should be easier for him, right?”
She sighed. “I think the iylvahn is right, in that we do not have a choice.”
We made our way down the cliffs, picking our way through the jagged rock, until we stood at the edge of the hellish landscape. Lava churned sluggishly in the pools, and bubbles rose on the surface before vanishing in a pop of molten liquid. The heat radiating off the pools was a near physical thing. As intense as peak Demon Hour, and even more menacing. Demon Hour was always the same. Same time, the same intensity, every day. If you were prepared for its arrival, you weren’t in any real danger.
The World Scar wouldn’t care if you were prepared for it or not. If you took one wrong step, if you lost your balance, or if the rock you were standing on crumbled beneath you, you would die a quick but very painful death. At least, I assumed it would be quick. I didn’t have any intention of finding out.
“Well,” Halek said cheerfully, after we spent several moments staring at what we’d have to cross in dismay. “I’m absolutely terrified about this prospect; what about you guys? I’ve always said I wanted to go back to the warm mud baths of Massa. This isn’t quite what I meant, though.”
Kysa urged Rhyne forward a few steps, standing up in the saddle to peer over the molten landscape. “Do you see a path forward, kahjai?” she asked. “Or at least, the best path we can take without having to be in the air for long?”
From my shoulder, Meeka suddenly hopped onto Ratuk’s head. Standing tall on his hind legs, he observed the bubbling landscape, whiskers twitching, then sprang off the rock beetle to the ground.
“Meeka?” I peered over Ratuk in alarm. “What are you doing?”
“Meeka see way across.” The jair’oa bounced forward a few steps, closer to the lava than I would’ve liked, then gazed up at the rest of us. “Follow Meeka. Meeka show safe path to cross.”
“Uh, are you sure about this, mouse?” Halek asked, and the jair’oa pinned back his ears. “You know our rock beetles are ateensybit bigger and heavier than you, right?”
“Meeka know.” Meeka looked up at me. The glow from the pools behind him cast the edges of his fur in crimson light. “Meeka see the way, show human Fateless path to goddess loom. Trust Meeka.”
Trust.I clenched a fist in Ratuk’s saddle. This entire journey was about trusting my companions, putting my faith in something other than myself.
“All right, Meeka,” I said, nodding. “We’ll follow you. Show us the way.”
He bobbed his head, then turned and hopped fearlessly toward the lava pools, tufted tail waving behind him. I took a deep breath and patted the rock beetle’s carapace.
“Follow Meeka, Ratuk,” I said, and the rock beetle lurched forward, trailing the jair’oa across the broken landscape.
At the edge of the lava pool, Meeka paused, whiskers twitching as he seemed to gauge the leap to the first boulder. Against the sprawling backdrop of red and black, he looked extremely tiny. A large lava bubble formed very close to where he was standing before it popped in a spray of red liquid. Meeka instantly sprang backward, avoiding the lethal shower, and my heart lodged itself somewhere in my throat.
“Meeka, are you all right?”
The jair’oa shook himself and vigorously rubbed his whiskers with his paws. “Ground sneaky,” he said, cleaning each whisker as if making sure they were all still there. “Single drop will hurt, so no touch red ground.” He sneezed, shaking his head, then hopped back to the edge of the pool and stood on his toes, peering over the lava. His whiskers curled as he wrinkled his muzzle at the scalding landscape. “Meeka still see path, though. Ground not stop Meeka. This way!”
