They followed the road toward Greenborough the rest of the day. Their travel was silent, Nick content to limp along amid his thoughts. The gentle movements made his body ache, but that was preferential to hanging from a wall by manacles. When the yellow sun began its descent, they veered off into the woods to make camp.

  Once Frost had built a fire, she sat before it, crossed-legged and thoughtful with her elbows resting on her knees. No answers seemed forthcoming from her unprompted, so he paced before her, emulating his older brother the best he could. Simon could tear apart any stubborn researcher with his subtle, incisive questioning. Nick, well…

  “You’re a visitor,” he said, relying on the blunt approach. “Or a demon, as the people here seem to call us. But either way, you’re like me, aren’t you?”

  Frost’s head casually rested in the palms of her hands. She seemed greatly amused by his sudden excitement at her visitor status.

  “Somewhat. Unlike you, I’ve been at this for a while and know what I’m doing.”

  “Funny. Very funny.” He shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts. “That means…”

  What did that mean? Not once when entering Yensere via the Artifact had he considered that there would be another actual person here. And whoever she was, she was most certainly not on Station 79. He’d have seen her during his year there, and he most certainly would have remembered someone so pretty, and with blue eyes so vibrant they seemed to…

  Focus, Nick, he thought, and then realized he was staring at her. He blushed and turned away.

  “If you’re a visitor, that means you come to Yensere from somewhere else,” he said, using the argument to disguise his embarrassment. “Where?”

  Frost’s amusement melted into something harder, more cautious.

  “I’m sorry, Nick, but I can’t tell you that.”

  “Why not? Because it’s forbidden?”

  “Because I don’t trust you. Because it isn’t safe.”

  “Not safe?” he asked, momentarily reeling. “Not safe from what?”

  Those blue eyes of hers bored into him, and he squirmed against their focus.

  “I won’t say. If you don’t know, then perhaps that’s for the best. But this isn’t something I can risk, Nick. Not with what’s at stake. You’d understand if you knew, I promise.”

  Simon would most certainly press for more, but Nick felt Frost was already at her limit. Anything focused on her home, wherever or whatever that might be, was off-limits. But surely there was more he could learn from her.

  “Well, can you answer me this? The Artifact. You found one, too, right? It’s how you’re coming here?”

  Frost hesitated.

  “Yes,” she finally said.

  All right, he was getting somewhere. What else could he ask that she’d be comfortable answering? If only his head didn’t ache like a war were being fought between his ears. Even walking spiked pain throughout his limbs. He willed himself to think, to ask something clever.

  “Is it…evil?” he asked, then quickly corrected himself, feeling almost childish for phrasing the question in such a way. “The Artifact. Its purpose, its function—is it dangerous?”

  Another long, silent stare.

  “The answer I give is mine alone, and many would not agree,” she said at last. “But that Artifact you found? You should throw it into your sun. Its mercies are poison. Its gifts are barbed. I hate it, Nick, more than I hate anything else in my whole life.”

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  “And yet you still use it,” he said. Not an accusation, just legitimate confusion.

  “I need it to find my sister. She’s here, too…somewhere.”

  Nick could hardly believe what he was hearing. If Frost was truly from another world, using an Artifact akin to the one they’d found on Majus, then the ramifications of what the octahedrons were, who she was, what she was…

  “You’re an alien,” he blurted out, his lips acting too fast for his brain to realize the statement’s stupidity and stop him.

  “An alien?” She stood, her face dead serious. His stomach squirmed and his heart thudded against the interior of his ribs. His limbs locked in place. She stepped closer, so close, their foreheads nearly touched. Her eyes held him prisoner.

  “Do I look like an alien?”

  And then she laughed. The tension broke, and he laughed along with her despite not being sure if he was the butt of the joke.

  “Nick, there’s a lot out here you don’t yet know, and if that’s how you’re going to react to me being a visitor, I think it’s safe to say we need to baby-step you along. I’ll teach you the best I can, but some things I’m going to keep to myself, either for your safety or mine.”

  That seemed fair enough. Already his mind was racing, trying to chase down all the possibilities and how his brother might react to them. Simon would have a million questions, and a million more theories about aliens, unknown planets, language translation, and additional Artifacts. Against that barrage, Nick would have so very little to offer. He couldn’t even rule out the possibility that Frost was just a simulation, one meant to help him adjust to the world of Yensere just like Cataloger. She could be a convincing illusion, like his father in the mirror.

  Nick flinched thinking of it, and his mood darkened. He patted the mirror in his pocket, closed his eyes, and did his best to pretend it wasn’t there. He still wasn’t sure why he’d turned back for it.

  “All right,” he said, opening his eyes again and grinning at Frost as if all were well. “But what about your name? Your real name. You weren’t born with the name ‘Frost’ and then later developed the ability to wield ice magic. I refuse to believe in such a ridiculous coincidence.”

  Frost laughed, and he relished the sudden break in tension.

  “Fine, you’re right, Frost is not my real name.”

  “So what is it?”

  She kicked dirt onto the fire. Smoke spread, and as darkness fell, she cast him the faintest, most flirtatious smile.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “When I give you my name, that’s when you’ll know I trust you, fully, one hundred percent. Until then, you’ll have to just accept my help while we work together.”

  Nick clapped his hands together.

  “You have a deal.” He glanced about the dark. He’d spent so long in Yensere, he felt nervous about exiting. But surely he needed to eat, right? Perhaps use the bathroom, if he hadn’t already made a mess of his bed? “So how do I get out of here? Here as in Yensere, not this forest.”

  Frost arched an eyebrow. “You mean you haven’t left on your own before?”

  “Not without dying.”

  She let out a whistle.

  “Impressive. Truly impressive. Have you considered asking Cataloger?”

  The fact that Frost knew about Cataloger jolted him with excitement.

  “No,” he said. “Can’t say I’ve had the chance, given the whole constant-dying thing.”

  Ring of Stones: archways allowing visitors to both arrive and depart Yensere—their locations are plentiful enough to be convenient while also scattered and hidden so as to not introduce shock or confusion to those living nearby

  Nick sighed, earning another smirk from Frost.

  “She just explained herself without your asking, didn’t she?” His look was answer enough. “Consider Cataloger a blessing, even if she is a bit hard to understand at first. And she’ll point out the nearest ring of stones if you kindly ask. Step into one, and she’ll handle the rest. You’ll wake up in your nice warm bed…or wherever it is you’re asleep.”

  As much as Frost wanted to keep information close to her chest, it was good to hear so many details of her experience matching his own.

  “All right, I’ll see you here tomorrow, I guess?” he said as a glimmering, semitranslucent arrow appeared in his vision, directing him toward a yet-unseen ring of stones.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Frost said.

  Part of him wanted to stay. What if she didn’t keep her word and abandoned him? He had a thousand questions he still desperately wanted answered. His hesitation lasted but a moment before he followed the arrow into the woods. She’d saved his life, and she’d admitted herself a visitor like him. That had to be worth at least a bit of trust.

  The underbrush thinned, the noisome crickets and croaking frogs ceasing when he reached a nearly imperceptible clearing in the woods. Within was a ring of stones, each one overgrown with roots and moss. Nick paused at their edge. The weight of the day pressed down on him, and his aching head was far too painful to properly address it all. Aliens. Frost. Baron Hulh’s torture. Multiple Artifacts. Possibly even multiple worlds.

  He reached his hand into his pocket, felt the cold, smooth glass of the mirror.

  Eyes closed, Nick stepped into the stones. Instead of touching soft, exposed earth, his foot slipped right on through, and suddenly he was falling. The world vanished around him, turning dark, swallowing him. The pitch black was split by the occasional strikes of white, like silent lightning.

  Departure requested and approved

  Visit terminated