“What are we doing here?” Unending cut her off.
It made Anunit sigh softly. “You’re still mad at me.”
“Damn right, I am.”
“You have a funny way of doing business, throwing us to the lions like that,” I said. “Well, throwing us to Joy like that.”
“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Anunit replied, her brow furrowed. “What more do you want me to do? Grovel for your forgiveness? Not going to happen. I’m still the only one who can make your family dreams come true, so maybe show me a little more respect.”
She did still have that leverage in her favor, though Unending and I were increasingly more curious about her other activities—mainly, the endeavors she wasn’t telling us about. “When are you going to use the Mixer?” I asked her.
She’d slipped it onto her wrist, wearing it as a bracelet. “Soon. I need a full triple moon for the spell to work. Death magic can be annoyingly specific.”
“Let me guess, Dain has three moons,” Unending said.
“Yup. So, tonight is the night. It’s still morning here, but that’s okay. Let me show you around.”
“How will an amplified scythe help you, exactly?” I replied. “Will it make your Concealment spells more powerful?”
Anunit nodded. “More effective and longer lasting, which means I can stay in one place for weeks, even months, before Death or any of her minions catch on.”
“I still can’t believe Reapers were willing to part with their scythes, with parts of themselves, just to get living bodies,” Unending said, gazing out into the distance. “I know I’m obviously willing to do some crazy things for the same, but my weapon is where I draw the line, and you both know it. My scythe is a part of me. I would never hand it over to anyone, especially in a trade. It’s unfathomable.” We’d emerged on a dry hilltop, and the view before us was truly stunning. To the left and to the right there were mountains—dark gray stone with jagged ridges and a yellowish tundra-like shrubbery covering the base. Snow covered the upper half, causing a beautiful contrast with the vibrant greenery of the valley in between. A river snaked through the land, and giant trees and brick towers rose along with it. The city was big but not massive. There were plenty of buildings, though not enough to suffocate the nature that had developed along the river.
I spotted movement on the water. A plethora of boats with white sails moved in different directions. Birds flew above the city—massive creatures with yellowish wings that circled over the elevated, open-air plazas. I could see why Anunit had been fascinated by Dain’s cities. They were certainly beautiful, featuring architecture unique to their settlement alone.
“You’re willing to do me a favor later without knowing what that favor is,” Anunit said, with a wry smile. “I’d say that’s almost as bad as surrendering your scythe. How do you know I won’t ask for it?”
Unending scoffed. “You wouldn’t be so foolish. Even my power wouldn’t protect you against Death if you pulled such a stunt. Besides, she’d be able to track you. She marked my energy signature after the whole Visio debacle, so I wouldn’t be separated from my scythe ever again. She always knows where it is now.” Upon noticing Anunit’s concern darkening her brows, she was quick to improvise. “Worry not. I’ve got spells of my own to counteract that. But said spells will fade if the scythe leaves my possession.”
“Hah. Figures,” Anunit scoffed. “I’m not worried. I figure Death would’ve come over herself by now if she knew of our joined company. See, Unending? I have put my trust in you. Remember that.”
“I will. It’s much appreciated.”
“Anyway, people will go to great lengths to get what they want. I don’t blame my clients for what they did. Frankly, I think they were so disconnected from their existence that giving me their scythes felt more liberating than anything else.” Anunit pointed toward the city. “Come on, you have to see the Dainians. They’re a treat!”
We teleported away from the hill to the southern edge of the city, right onto the middle of a stone bridge. From up close, I could see a dozen of these structures built over the river—enormous things made entirely from limestone blocks, each about six feet long and wide, and about four feet thick. They’d been polished to perfection, smooth as marble. None of the residents could see us, but I could certainly see them.
They were strange creatures, indeed. Remarkably tall—at least eight feet on average, I realized—and slender, with bony arms and legs. They had humanoid features and nearly translucent skin. Their eyes were wide and warm, reminding me of puppies. Their fashion was modest and simple—mostly tailored animal hides and neatly trimmed fur vests, boots and minimalist gold jewelry in the form of necklaces and bracelets.
“I get that they’re tall, but their body mass doesn’t explain the labor they would have had to put into building these bridges,” I said, taking another moment to observe the Dainians’ graceful walk. They were delicate, practically gliding across the cobblestone pavement. Carriages made of metal and wood were pulled over the bridge by donkey-like creatures, stocky animals with bulging muscles and long black manes.
“They didn’t build the bridges. The stone giants built them,” Anunit replied.
“The what, now?” What she described sounded like the Dearghs of Calliope, but those were creatures of earth and fire, with lava flowing through their stone bodies and dependent on the volcanoes from which they’d come. I wondered if Dain had the same, or if these were a different kind of creature altogether.
She chuckled. “Stone giants. They live in the mountains.”
“Volcanoes?” I asked.
“No, plain mountains. I don’t know of any surface volcanoes here,” Anunit said, thus shedding light on my little Deargh/stone giant mystery. “The Dainians have never seen a giant. They were told by their ‘god’ that they would have bridges, centuries ago, and all they had to do was sleep with their windows shuttered for one night. He warned them that if anyone so much as peeked toward the river, the stone giants would leave the bridges unfinished. So, the Dainians did as they were told. They went to bed before midnight, the shutters pulled everywhere.”
“Are you reciting local folklore?” Unending asked, slightly confused.
The female Dainians had long clothes made of brownish leather, their chests covered with ensembles of gold disks. The males wore pants and hide shirts with fur vests on top. They carried themselves with a certain grace that I’d only seen in ballet dancers before. It was a beautiful sight, and the anthropologist in me had a ton of questions. I dared not indulge them, however, since I wasn’t sure how long we’d be there. We’d only had hours in the soul fae village. On Dain, we would maybe get more, until the triple full moons, but it wasn’t enough.
This kind of world required extensive observation and study. Days and weeks of living among these people, mingling with them. Asking them questions. Witnessing their daily and ceremonial habits. Understanding their social norms and interpersonal relationships. But we had a second trial to get to and a slew of unanswered questions to resolve before anything else.
“No, I’m telling you the true story of how these bridges came to be,” Anunit said. We started walking toward the western bank, following the flux of Dainians toward an elevated square about half a mile ahead. I could see it from where we were. It was big enough to hold a thousand of them, at least, with stone brick fencing and plenty of decorative trees. The greenery was a dominant color, I quickly realized. Every inch of bare ground had been dedicated to plants, and it smelled amazing since many of the flowers were in bloom. It reminded me of spring in The Shade.