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We attempt to drift into a fragile, tense sleep. An unspoken bargain I’m grateful for. Heru shifts outside like distant thunder, and I can’t tell if I’m more aware of Leaf’s warmth or the soft rhythm of his breathing.

And then, just as the forest night feels impossibly still, there’s a soft rustle outside. I instantly reach for the dagger under the bedroll at my head and twist to face Leaf, still sleeping like a rock.

“Leaf,” I whisper urgently. “Wake up!” I poke his chest. Once, twice. “Leaf!”

His eyes spring open, pupils blown wide, like he’s surprised to see me this close.

Listen, I mouth. Leaf head tilts slightly, turning his ear to the woods where the gentle thud of boots pressing on the forest floor could easily be missed by an untrained ear.

Good thing we are trained warriors.

Leaf holds up two fingers, and I know instantly what he is saying without needing to speak a single word—a trick we’ve been able to use for years. Two people approaching.

Sure enough, two figures appear in the tent flap, guards by the look of it, bearing the unmistakable brown and green sigil of the Forest Tribe.

“You are trespassing in the Ancient Forest without notice,” one of the guards announces.

“Lord Clayoq, Protector of Sky and Soil, requests your presence. Immediately,” the other guard says, firm.

Leaf groans, untangling himself from the bedroll. “I had just gotten comfortable.”

This time, I do kick Leaf.

“Ouch! Okay fine, I’m getting up.”

“Follow us.” The larger of the two guards bows his head to Leaf as if he is the one in charge.

Sexist dicks.

They wait while we quickly pack up our camp, not offering to help.

Selfish dicks.

Heru is nowhere to be seen. Traitor. She probably flew to her coop or wherever the giant beasts live.

We follow the guards through the woods on foot. For their large statures, almost as tall as Leaf, they step nimbly over the twisting roots. Apparently, I’m the only one affected by this new landscape because I trip, once again, and mutter another expletive under my breath. I ran out of fucks, shits, and other common swear words a while ago, so now I’m coming up with new, more creative, descriptions for my feelings.

Leaf walks with ease, seemingly unbothered, but I know his tells, and the slightest furrow in his brow gives away that he is not as at ease as he looks.

Good. I cannot be the only one stumbling, figuratively and literally, with what to do next. We were always going to visit the Forest Tribe, but I was hoping we would have a little more time to plan our entrance in the morning. Strategize at least a little.

The farther we walk, the darker the forest becomes. The canopies above blot out the moonlight, forcing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. For the second time in my life, I wish I was a Moon’cher so that I could have night vision. I cast a small orb of sunfyre to bounce in front of me, though it’s not needed after a while.

The forest is transforming before my very eyes, ancient and alive and glowing. Thick vines hang from above, descending from darkness as if hung from the sky. I crane my neck upward, taking in the view.

“It’s beautiful here,” I say, the awe in my voice apparent.

Leaf shrugs, unimpressed. “It’s alright.”

A guard chokes.

“Come on Leaf, even I can admit that this is absolutely unreal.”

“Oh, it’s real alright,” he mutters under his breath.

Usually I’m the grumpy one, but if I have to play nice in order to get the moon stone from the Elves, I will. Has Leaf already forgotten our mission? I tug on the side of his sleeve, and he peers down at me, eyebrow raised. “Play nicely.”

He blinks, very slowly, then his eyes roll to the back of his head as he takes in a noticeable breath. “Fine,” he grumbles through clenched teeth. “For you, I will.”