I wake up to a sudden bright light piercing my eyelids. I wince and turn away, blinking with my heavy, crusty eyes.

  “What is happening?” I mumble, still groggy.

  “You’re sleeping the day away,” Alliyah says. "Hurry, or you'll miss breakfast entirely."

  Then she’s gone. The light’s too strong to go back to sleep, and I can catch the occasional whiff of breakfast. I lurch to my feet and turn back to find my dagger, proud of myself for remembering it. Maybe one day I will jump right to my feet with my dagger and a snarl on my lips, but I doubt it.

  It’s colder today, though we are miles further South. I eat quickly, hastened by everyone else finishing their food all around me. I wash the dishes in the stream and am glad to have cleaned myself yesterday. Imagining entering the cold water this morning makes chills run down my spine.

  Soon, we are loaded in the cart, and the horses are moving. I relax on a soft, simple couch for a while, enjoying the heated interior of the carriage. Then, I step out to sit with Dirk. He’s in a quiet mood. There are knives on his hips that weren’t there yesterday.

  When I ask him about it, his reply's bitter.

  “The guards aren’t hired to protect horses. They are hired to protect people. The wealthy people, hidden in their fortified boxes, pft," he huffs angrily. "The horses are exposed, and most things that attack the caravan are hungry and desperate. They don’t care about the people and their gold or whatever. They want fresh meat. They don’t come for the Queen, they come for the horses, a large meal to feed their little monster pups.”

  “So if we're attacked--” I start to ask.

  “If we're attacked, the guards will defend the carts. I will protect my horses.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?” I ask.

  “Yes.” He says.

  I sit quietly with him, until I grow too cold. Then, I hop down to walk alongside the cart. Nyce joins me after a while, and we walk together most of the morning.

  Meeting Nyce has been the most incredible part of this journey so far. She is funny, raunchy, and curious. She loves an adventure as much as I do and is genuinely interested in my life. It's fascinating to see it through her eyes. She thinks being the daughter of a fabric merchant makes my life more glamorous than her life as a noble student at one of the foremost adventuring academies in the known world. I open up to her more than I have to anyone except maybe my father.

  Our conversation is halted by the sound of a horn. One prolonged blast, loud and clear, from ahead of us. Harrison pulls up to our side, and I hear Dirk yelling to bring the horses to a halt.

  “Okay, when the cart stops fully, both of you need to get in the carriage," Harrison says.

  “What’s happening?” I ask.

  “Don’t know, probably an attack. Grant?”

  “Horn was probably ten carts ahead of us. I don't hear steel. It's probably not bandits." Grant says.

  "Okay, get inside now," Harrison says. We jog up the stairs and open the door. Arthur is standing there, ready for us. He grabs our shoulders gently and pulls us inside.

  “Thanks Harrison, Grant. Be careful.” Then he closes the door and bars it in the middle. He slides two bolts in from the edges of the doorframe to lock the top and bottom in place. Then he turns back to us.

  "Whew, well, that's always exciting. You guys see anything?" he asks, sitting across from us.

  "No, Grant said it was beasts, ten or so carts ahead."

  “Grant’s probably right. He's been guarding this route for a dozen years now.”

  “Will they fight? Grant and Harrison?”

  “Probably not. They've yet to call the guards nearby for aid. If you hear a two-horn blow, that means they are being overrun, and they want the guards from the nearby carts to converge on the assailed cart. It's rare, but it happens, mostly with bandit raids. One long horn will mean that the danger is clear. I’m sure there are more signals than that. And the quartermaster has a skill that lets him communicate with all the guards simultaneously. But he has to figure out what’s going on first.”

  “Really? That sounds useful.” I reply. He nods.

  “It's one of the reasons this caravan has such a good reputation. The quartermaster's Skills are phenomenal.” He turns to Nyce. “Sorry, I'm not sure we've met yet, Nyce? I'm Arthur." He extends his hand.

  "Nice to meet you, sir," Nyce says politely.

  “I’ve heard good things.” Arthur smiles.

  “No, you haven’t,” she replies quickly. Arthur smiles.

  “I have.” He says firmly. “Noelle is fond of you. Others may say bad things about your family, but I am only speaking to you right now. I like Noelle, she's helpful and smart. And if she likes you, that means something to me." His directness is still odd to me. Nyce blushes and looks down.

  Arthur senses her discomfort and excuses himself to check on Ellie and Alliyah. He steps through the curtain to their sleeping quarters.

  "Man, he's a lot," Nyce says quietly.

  "I like him. He's just direct." The fondness I hear in my own voice is surprising. I know now why my dad holds him in high regard.

  “So, where do you sleep?” She asks, changing the subject.

  “In the kitchen,” I stand and lead the way.

  "It's not much," Nyce says when she sees it. “At least you make your bed.” I chuckle. I don’t tell her that it’s only a habit I picked up from being in this carriage. When your bed is in the kitchen, everyone sees it.

  We sit on the small bed and chat for a little. I’m still nervous at the idea that there might be people fighting and dying just out of hearing range. I wonder if Nyce thinks of that, too.

  Soon, we hear one long horn blare out. Arthur comes out from behind the curtain and smiles at us perched on the bed, then he opens the door and steps out. I hear him share a few words with Harrison, then he ducks back in.

  “We’re going to be moving again in five minutes. Nyce, you should run home. I'm sure your family is worried about you."

  She says bye quickly and leaves.

  “Arthur, do you know if I can walk alongside the carriage? Now that it's clear?”

  “You’ll have to ask Harrison, but I doubt it. Tonight, we’ll be camping a stone's throw from the Crucible. Likely, we won't leave the carriage again until the danger is clear. Not even when we stop. You may be able to ride up with Dirk, though. Check with him."

  I sit on the bench next to the horseman. There is no sign of combat around our cart. He seems to be in an even darker mood than he was in earlier.

  “Hi Dirk, you alright?”

  “Yes. No.” He says quickly. “I’m glad we weren’t attacked, but we’re about to enter the Gulch. From here, it’s very dangerous.”

  “Can I sit up here with you today?” I ask cautiously. I don’t want to be in the way or make his day worse. But I would like to see this Gulch that puts him on edge. I can't imagine spending the rest of the day holed up in the carriage, hoping for the best.

  “Fine by me, let’s check with the boy. Harrison!” Harrison is in the middle of mounting his horse. He swings his leg around, his foot finding the stirrups quickly. He clucks once and moves closer to us.

  “Eh?” he asks.

  “Girl wants to sit up here for a while. Is that okay?” I give him a tentative smile. Harrison sighs and tilts his head from side to side as though he’s weighing it.

  “S’okay for now, the horn goes off again, and she darts right underneath, neh?” He is looking to me for confirmation.

  “Yes. Absolutely," unable to keep the smile from my face. The smile bothers Harrison more than the request. He squints at me as though reconsidering.

  "Take that dagger out of the sheath and rest it across your lap. Do you have a helmet?” He asks.

  “Um, I have this,” I lift the hood.

  "Good, keep it on. Rocks can fall from the cliffside and kill a man in full armor. That should protect you from the little stuff, though. There are flyers, too. They can pluck you right from the seat, so keep your eyes on the sky." Then he backs off, riding to the rear to speak with Grant.

  “He’s just trying to scare you a little. Better overcautious than under.”

  “So, I don’t need the dagger?”

  “You do, keep it out, and the hood on. You can go inside at any time, okay.”

  The horn blares again, one quick blast. The cart rumbles to motion. I look around, hoping to see some sign of the earlier battle. After a minute or two, we pass a clearing where bright white sand has been spread across the green grass in patches. Parts of the sand have been stained red. They covered it up. They covered up the signs of the fight. But you can’t clean up the smell.

  The smell of blood and offal wasn’t overpowering, the steady breeze carrying it far away. However, the smells I associate with a slaughterhouse are still present. This is where it happened. Deeper in the woods, I see bodies, fur, and limbs stacked like firewood. The thought turns my stomach, and I face forward.

  Dirk looks sympathetic. But he doesn't say anything. The rest of the day passes in a blur. We don't stop for anything. We don't speed up at all. We ride deeper and deeper into a ravine with tall, ragged cliffs on both sides of the cart. This is the Gulch.

  At nightfall, we all stay inside. Harrison and Grant join us for a few minutes to update us during dinner.

  “A small pack attacked a few wagons ahead of us. They must have been hungry to attempt something on such a large group. The guards handled them quickly. There were two injuries, both minor. One horse was killed when the alpha got a lucky blow in. It was quick. All in all, we can’t complain. Tonight, everyone is staying inside. We’ll be rotating shifts out there, so there’ll be plenty of sentries to sound the alarm if something comes up tonight. And tomorrow, we’ll be on our way. From there, it only gets safer.” Harrison smiles. “Any questions?” Ellie raises her hand like she’s in a classroom. This makes Harrison and Grant smile.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Yes, Ellie?” Harrison asks.

  “So the Crucible …” she trails off.

  "Yes," Harrison says patiently.

  “It’s the same one. With Ube and Prete and Rafe?”

  “That’s right. They aren't in there anymore, though, I promise. That happened a long time ago.”

  “What about the demons? Are there more of those?” Harrison looks sympathetic and turns to Arthur. Arthur smiles at him and leans down to talk to Ellie. She turns to face him and asks another hushed question. Without a word, it’s been decided that the parents should answer Ellie's many questions.

  We eat a quick meal, just the family. Ellie’s questions dominate the conversation. She’s ushered to bed sooner than usual. Arthur offers me an apologetic smile as they duck behind the curtain.

  "Goodnight, Noelle!" Ellie hollers.

  “Night, Ellie! Sleep well!" I smile at how quickly I have gotten used to being a part of this family. An ancillary part, certainly, but a part, nonetheless.

  I lay back in bed, thinking of the clearing and the smell of blood. I turn my mind away from the battle scene and find it landing on the Crucible. What would it be like to face such a challenge and come out on top? I want that. The stakes are too high in a Crucible. No thanks, not interested. But that same idea, facing a challenge, something hard and scary, and coming out on top. That's what I meant when I spoke with my father about adventure. I want to be tested.

  I’ve only been asleep for an hour or two when I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. At first, I think I’ve bumped into the wall, but then it squeezes again and shakes me.

  “Wuh?” I hear myself say. It’s still dark, but my eyes are adjusted to the low light. “Ellie?” I whisper.

  “Shhh. It's not Ellie. It's me." The voice is deeper than Ellie’s, right by my ear. I turn to see her face, “Nyce?!” I ask, surprised.

  “Shhh," she puts her hand over my mouth; I see her teeth in the dark; she's grinning. She leans in to whisper in my ear again. “Are you awake now?” I nod. “Okay, whisper then. Damn girl, you’re gonna wake up the whole carriage.”

  “What are you doing here?” I keep my voice quiet.

  "I'm being spontaneous and charitable!" she whispers sassily. "I need to see it again."

  “See wh.. The Crucible?”

  "Duh, yes, the Crucible. I'm going. You want to come?"

  “Are you crazy?”

  “No”

  “Because you sound crazy.”

  “I’m not crazy. I’m brazen.”

  “What?”

  “I’m brazey” she decides.

  “You can’t," I say seriously. "After the attack today, do you really think it's a good idea?"

  “I’ve done it before, easily. And that was with my annoying brother. He seemed intent on fucking up wherever he could. With you and my Skills, it'll be cake. You'll be back in your bed covered in drool in two hours. You'll still get a full night’s sleep. Come on, don’t be a wuss.”

  I sit upright, wipe the drool from my face, and look around the cart. Everyone is still asleep, and I can hear the gentle, muffled sound of Arthur snoring.

  “Now?” I ask.

  “Right now.”

  “I don’t know”

  “Yes, you do. You know. You want to see it. Trust me. You want to see this. But I'm going right now, you can come or stay. It's up to you." She turns and crouches, starting to leave.

  “Wait! Wait.” I pause, my hand outstretched. “I’m coming, give me a minute.”

  "Yes! You're not going to regret it. Hurry up."

  I gather my dagger and put it on my hip. My pack is lying at the foot of my bed, packed and ready. In case I have to leave in a rush, this counts. I pick it up carefully and put my arms through both straps without bumping it on the narrow walls.

  I follow Nyce to the door. It’s already opened, though only cracked slightly. Her footfalls make no sound at all. Mine make every floorboard creak. But we make it out without any problems.

  There are no campfires. It’s pitch dark. Nyce turns at the bottom of the steps and moves quickly to the side of the cart. Even in the dark, there are shadows. My heart is beating out of my chest. It’s so loud it might alert one of the guards. Where are the guards? As if she can hear my thoughts, she answers me.

  "The guards are positioned around the carriages, all worried about threats from the forest around us. They don't really have eyes here. We'll have to pass through the area they are monitoring, though.”

  "Maybe this is a bad idea," I say quickly. "What if we're caught?"

  "Stop," she puts her hand on my shoulders. "You can return if you'd like, but I am doing this. I can get you there and back safely. You just have to trust me. Do you trust me?" Even in the dark, I can see her eyes, I gulp and nod. Still terrified, the darkness is so complete, eerily quiet, and my every thought and action is amplified in my ears.

  "I'm going to use a skill now called Enmeshed Darkness. It will keep them from seeing us. I need you to accept the skill. Do it now." As she says it, I feel an energy prodding at my chest, right by my heart. "Let it in," Nyce says. I take a deep breath in and out, relaxing, and feel the energy seep gently through the previously blocked passage.

  “Good,” Nyce says, her shoulders seeming to relax. “Now follow me, walk in my footprints, stay low.”

  I look around. The previously dark space around us is lighter now, and the details are more apparent. There is still no color, but where there was black before, it’s now a textured gray. Nyce moves ahead of me, and I follow her quickly, focusing on stepping where she steps and staying low to the ground.

  I'm pretty good at it. It requires a tremendous amount of focus, but I'm able to enter a trance-like state, and before I know it, I almost run right into her back.

  “Why’d you stop?” I whisper.

  “We’re close." She says simply, a small smile on her face. It's interesting. She's always seemed cool. Like, calm and relaxed, but she looks even more comfortable tonight. Like a weight has been lifted.

  “You like it out here,” I say.

  "Yeah," she replies. "I can be myself out here. There's nobody else around."

  "Except me," I say lightly.

  "Yeah," she says. “’C'mon, let's go."

  I continue stepping in her footsteps. I can feel myself getting better at this, and I can now spare some time to focus on our surroundings. We are on a ledge that winds up the side of the gulley, it’s narrow, but a horse could ride on it comfortably. We’re gaining altitude fast, and my lungs are working hard to keep up with Nyce's effortless strides.

  We stop again, and Nyce drops to her knees. She gestures me closer and points. There’s an outpost against the cliff face, and guards are set up along the path and at the entrance to the cave. Nyce turns to me.

  “Okay, there are guards here. You’ll need to follow me even closer. You’ve been getting quieter as we go, that’s good. I’ll move more slowly, but you need to stay just a step behind and focus on quieting your footsteps, okay? Are you ready?” I shake my head no. I am trying to calm my breathing. But, after that hike up the hill and seeing the outpost absolutely swarming with guards, I can't believe I am going to do this.

  "I don't think I can do it," I say.

  "You're not turning back now, Noelle. I know it, and you know it. You need to catch your breath?" She asks gently. I nod, not trusting my voice.

  "That's okay. Tap my shoulder when you're ready." She settles in, watching the guard's movements. I’m focused on my heartbeat and breathing, trying to center myself. I said I wanted a test. That's what this is, a test. The stakes are too high. No, it’s okay, Nyce has done this before. One foot in front of the other.

  I tap her shoulder and nod. She begins moving slower, more deliberately. I enter the same flow state as before and focus my whole body on my footsteps, picking the right places, putting the right amount of pressure, and keeping myself close to Nyce. Not looking at the guards. Then the firelight disappears, and we are in the cave. We keep moving. Nyce's skill makes this darkness no different than the darkness outside.

  "Okay," Nyce has stopped, straightening and smiling. The most authentic smile I've seen from her yet. "We did it!" She dances a little, singing to herself, "We did it. We did it. Oh yea. We did it." She reaches back for a high five. I look at her incredulously and shake my head no. What is she thinking? She's being so loud. "Oh, relax, we're past all the guards. Nobody's in here. Nobody's allowed here. C'mon high five me!" she insists. I hold my hand out, and she slaps it viciously.

  “Oww!” I exclaim, holding my stinging right hand in my left.

  “We did it! Woot! Feels so good.” She’s still singing.

  "That hurt, dude. Hurry up. Do you know where the portal is? Let’s go there, now." I look around. My heart is still pounding, and I'm worried about how we'll get out of here when we're done.

  “That’s the planly, Stanley. Come on, it’s this way.” She starts walking down the narrow tunnel, skipping every now and then. What is going on with this chick?

  The tunnels are dark, but generations of footfalls have worn the path smooth. We are deep underground.

  There’s a light up ahead. We turn a corner, and the source is revealed. It’s a disk hanging in the air, a floating circle made of silver light. The entrance to the Talor Crucible. My jaw hangs open.

  “Right!?” Nyce says. I’m dimly aware of her. I walk closer to the portal. It hums. This floating entrance has a weight and power that’s mysterious beyond anything I’ve seen before. My senses feel sharper, and the light is enticing. I reach out my hand, and I hover there momentarily, hesitant. Then I touch it.

  Plop.

  Smooth ripples flow from my fingertip, moving slower than they would in water. I watch the ripples go all the way to the edges of the portal, expecting them to bounce back. But they don't. They just disappear as though falling off the edge of a map.

  Nyce giggles behind me. Her cheery mood feels alien in this quiet, powerful place. Like it doesn’t belong. She’s been acting strangely since we entered the tunnels. I look at her over my shoulder. She’s smiling broadly, her hands clasped in front of her chest as if she might start applauding at any moment.

  “You’re so brave!” She says admiringly.

  “Are you okay, Nyce?”

  “Oh yeah! Why’d you ask?”

  “You’ve just … you’ve been acting a bit odd since we entered the cave. You seem happier." She lets out a deep sigh and rolls her eyes. The gesture seems unlike any I've seen from her in the last few days. Part of me worries that the proximity to the Crucible is affecting her somehow.

  “I’ve just been planning this for sooo long," she says, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes.

  “Planning what? To see the portal again?”

  "Yeah, with you." She adds, still leaning back into the wall, her eyes closed, and her body relaxed.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, turning back to the portal. Its silver surface seems to pulse like it's hungry. I feel a twinge in my stomach, a twisting pain. I reach down and place a hand on it, looking back to the portal. Something’s not right.

  “Can I tell you a story?” Nyce asks, her tone soft and curious. Like she has a secret to share.

  "Sure, aren't you interested in the portal, though? You've barely looked at it.”

  “Later. First, the story.” She exhales slowly and then begins speaking, her voice sounds gentle, like a mother telling a story to her child. Her tone rises and falls in a sing-song manner.

  “It’s about my family, the Narsts. We used to be assassins, you know?” She asks rhetorically. “Not anymore though, now it’s all about politics and subtle maneuvering. So recently, the family sent their daughter to a school in the South to gain influence there. And sent their son to the North. Unfortunately, on the boy's arrival, he was tricked. A moment of foolishness led to his humiliation, and his mission to enmesh himself with the ruling class in the North was off to a dreadful start. All because of a trickster merchant girl who sold him a hideous robe under the illusion that the Prince would also be wearing one of them. The Prince didn’t. Instead, the boy was ridiculed. Syphilis Boy. That’s what they call him now.”

  My stomach twisted savagely at the name. Ichor. Nyce’s brother is Ichor. I turn from the portal to look at her. Her eyes are open, locked on mine, and a knowing smile is on her face.

  “Ichor is your brother,” I say. It’s meant as a question, but my voice is shaking.

  “Yes, let me finish the story.” She replies calmly. I gulp and nod. "Then, one day, word is passed around the northern academy that the merchant girl who sold him the robe has disappeared without a trace. One night, she went to sleep in her carriage, and when everyone woke up, she was gone.”

  Sweat is beading up on the back of my neck, and my hands are cold as ice.

  “Nyce—” I start, hearing the panic in my voice.

  “Yes, Noelle?” She asks gently.

  “I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know they would make fun of him. I didn't know it would hurt your family. I didn't know he was your brother. I didn't know. I didn’t know.” I insist desperately. I back up and feel my shoulder touch the cold portal behind me. The ripples don't seem so interesting this time. Nyce looks at me skeptically.

  "You knew some of it though, didn't you? You knew he was a noble. You knew you were selling him a hideous robe. You hoped he would look stupid in it. Don’t play na?ve.”

  “He was being a dick! He was saying rude things about our store! He was drunk!”

  “Yeah, Syphilis Boy can be a real pill when he’s had a few drinks. Trust me, I know. I'm not here to argue with you, girl. I'm only following orders. Your prank was hilarious, and I would have done the same or worse in your position." She shrugs. "What matters is the story. What matters is that everyone knows we did it, there won’t be any proof of course. Your corpse will stay in the Crucible. But we’ll make sure everyone knows it was us. That’s the power of rumors, after all. If I let you go, if nobody pays the price, Ichor won't be useful anymore. I thought we should kill your daddy, personally. But I was outvoted. Killing a young girl has more an impact, it turns out."

  "Please, Nyce, don't do this.” I hold my frigid hands up in front of myself defensively. I should have listened to Alliyah. She laughs brightly, as though she's heard a hilarious joke.

  “But I’ve worked so hard to make this moment perfect!" She walks towards me, smiling. Should I draw my dagger? Should I run? There's only one exit, and it's behind a level 15 assassin. I'm sorry, Dad, I'm so sorry.

  “Wait, wait, can we talk about this?” I plead with her.

  “No, I’ve got to get back. You can negotiate with the Keeper.” She’s close now, just an arm’s length away. She pauses there, looking into my eyes. I can see that she is taking pleasure in the power she has over me at this moment. "I almost forgot; Syphilis Boy wanted me to pass on a message.”

  "Please, Nyce – Please don't –”

  “Shhh.” She holds a finger to her lips. “It’s a simple sentiment. I didn't even have to write it down. Don't you want to hear it?"

  I shake my head. No. My legs are starting to buckle. I feel my bladder loosen and urine spread down my legs. But my back is up against the cold portal, and I can’t get away.

  “Here it is,” she says, a sharp smile on her face, her voice venomous. “Fuck you, die screaming.”

  She moves deliberately, yet still way too fast for me to react. She presses her hand on my chest and shoves me backward, and I fall. My wide eyes stare helplessly into her calm gaze.

  She raises her other hand, smiles, and waves goodbye sweetly. Then, the cold takes me, and everything goes white.