The look on Katarina's face told Simon everything he needed to know.

  In his limited time spent with her, he'd come to regard the woman as a fighter. Whether she was imprisoned by slavers or ambushing a Fell Beast, she refused to surrender. No matter what circumstances plagued her, there was always a stubborn fire lit in her gaze.

  Now that fire had almost sputtered out entirely. In its place was an empty sort of resignation.

  Simon approached carefully and slowly. Katarina was leaning against the building he'd chosen as his temporary residence, idly playing with a dagger, staring out into the distance. He didn't step quietly, yet she gave no indication that she'd heard him.

  He waited for her to initiate conversation. When that moment never arrived, he awkwardly cleared his throat, steeling his resolve. "Hello, Katarina."

  "Hey." She didn't turn to greet him. The dagger twirled within nimble fingertips.

  A days-old memory came to Simon. "You...may call me Katarina. Or Kat, if you prefer." It was one of the first things she'd said to him.

  Did she appreciate when people used her shortened name? Did it sound friendlier? Would that help set her at ease?

  Was there any possible way to soften what they were about to discuss?

  Grimacing inwardly, Simon opted to keep using her full name. He didn't think he could make the shorter variant seem genuine. That was something friends shared, and...they weren't quite there yet.

  "I'm sorry," he started with. "If there's anything at all I can do for you, please let me know."

  Her mouth twitched imperceptibly. "Haven't even told you what the physician said."

  Simon couldn't think of a response that wouldn't sound insensitive, so he wisely elected to say nothing.

  Katarina flipped her dagger up and snatched it out of the air. "As it turns out, my father is one-in-a million." Her voice was like a piranha-filled lake; serene on the surface, but with blood and sharp edges lurking just underneath. "Can you believe it? We were finally 'lucky' about something. Not with our birth, or our innate skill with mana, or anything else throughout our lives..."

  She trailed off, losing steam. "The Ancient One's Gift. That's the illness my father has. His body is rejecting his own mana. It's eating itself alive."

  Like a magic-based autoimmune disease? "I wasn't aware that could happen," Simon blurted out.

  "Neither were we. As I said – one-in-a-million."

  She stowed her dagger away. "The Ancient's Gift is inborn. He's actually had it all his life. Merely gets worse with age. Means it isn't contagious...but it can't be cured. Only staved off."

  Simon didn't bother asking how. If it was that simple, Katarina wouldn't be looking so despondent.

  "There's a remedy," she continued. "Would keep him alive for another few decades. He'd last long enough to start complaining about his aching bones. I'd...I'd still have him."

  A burst of resentment exploded across her face, twisting it into something hateful and desperate. If she'd still been holding her dagger, Simon would've been inclined to back away, lest she stab the nearest warm body in a fit of rage.

  Then the moment passed. Her expression reverted to its mask of forced acceptance. "The remedy also costs far more money than we'll ever see. Even if we did somehow strike it rich, the nobility and merchant guilds hoard the remedy, buying it up the instant it's made. They've ensured that if they're ever struck with the affliction, they'll have a ready stockpile to last them indefinitely."

  And the rest of us get to rot, were the words that went unspoken.

  "Considered stealing it," Katarina remarked, her fingers brushing against the dagger at her waist. "But I don't have the skill or expertise to pilfer a nobleman's well-guarded coffers. Would need to train for years and years. On the slim chance I succeeded, by then, father would be..."

  She shook her head. "Should stay here. Jonathan has offered to take care of him, ease what symptoms he's able to. At least my father will be lucid. Can hear his voice. Make fond memories. Something to keep with me."

  "How much time does he have?" Simon asked.

  "He'll live to see my next birthday...yet not the one after."

  A chuckle escaped her throat. "Was difficult for us to leave Caelryn City, you know. Those slavers weren't the first peril we encountered on our road to Springwater. Bet all our hopes on this trash heap of a village. Figured we'd be in good company – a pair of penniless vagrants should fit right in. Anything would've been better than hiding from the roaming gangs in Caelryn, constantly fleeing from knives in the dark, never knowing what new hell you'd awaken to in the morning."

  Katarina breathed out a sigh. "Making the journey seemed so important at the time. Now I'm simply left thinking..."

  She chanced a sideways glance at him, as if seeking answers. "What was it all for?"

  With a flash of disquieting inspiration, Simon realized how easy it would be to manipulate her right then.

  It wasn't like with the Contract, where his demonic mana was feeding him advice. This was glaringly obvious just by looking at her. Katarina had lost her way. She was adrift in a storm, without a lifeboat, ready to latch onto whoever extended a helping hand.

  With one single sentence – "Assist me, and I'll get Gerold's remedy for you" – she would follow him to the ends of the world. It wouldn't even be a lie.

  But...

  "I think I owed you an explanation for my confusing behavior?"

  Katarina blinked at his non-sequitur. "Oh. Right." She turned to face him, seeming to embrace the distraction he'd given her. "You don't act like any Demon I've ever met."

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  "You haven't met other Demons."

  "Yes, but that's beside the point."

  Simon grinned, and she returned it in kind – although hers was much more flimsy. "Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that my behavior must remain confusing for a bit longer. Before I regale you with the full explanation, I need to ask some questions of my own first."

  She arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

  "For context." He swept his arm out towards the village. "To start with – what exactly are the Mana Harvesters? Why was it so imperative that the Fell Beast not reach them?"

  Katarina stared. "How don't you know of...never mind. I'll just presume there's a reason you're asking."

  Rotating to the side, she gestured at a building several streets away. It was slightly taller than average, with what appeared to be a nobleman's coat-of-arms emblazoned at the top.

  "The Mana Harvesters are Artifacts located in each city, town, and village in the Severed Isles," she explained. "They siphon mana from the land and store it in containers. Every so often, some of Duke Helmund's soldiers come to collect."

  That was basically what Simon had expected from a name like Mana Harvesters, but it was good to have it confirmed nonetheless. "Is that why we couldn't let the Fell Beast near it?"

  "Correct. With how powerful the Beast became just from draining the Water Artifact...I shudder to imagine what abomination it would've transformed into after devouring the Harvester's bounty. Duke Helmund himself may have needed to come and slay it personally."

  Very, very glad it didn't come to that. "And what does Helmund use all that mana for?"

  "Various things, I suppose. Bribes to the nobility. Fashioning more Artifacts. Perhaps a garnish for his dinners?"

  Simon took note of her demeanor. "You don't seem especially concerned that Duke Helmund is robbing the land of its mana."

  She half-shrugged. "Not like it hurts anyone. The land recovers."

  "It's a wasteland out there, Katarina."

  "It's always been a wasteland. Helmund didn't change that."

  Which was a reasonable belief to hold...for someone born into a medieval world, who was relatively young, and who possessed limited access to information. She could hardly hop online and google 'environmental changes over the years'. Lucette's slaver group had only concluded that Valtia was dying after years of traveling around and comparing different areas.

  Simon gazed at the unassuming Helmund-branded building, wondering how much damage that specific Harvester had wrought. A harbinger of the apocalypse – hidden in plain sight.

  His right arm tensed. "Out of curiosity, what would happen if I went and demolished–"

  "Don't," Katarina interrupted, her panic rising. "Duke Helmund exacts brutal punishment on settlements who damage their Harvester. He cares more for his mana tithe than the actual taxes."

  "Of course he does." Simon put on a reassuring smile. "Relax. I won't lay a finger on the Duke's precious Harvesters."

  Not until he could do so with impunity, at any rate.

  Katarina narrowed her eyes. "You swear? Because it would be a waste to condemn Springwater mere hours after we risked our lives to save it."

  "I swear. I'm not as impetuous as you may think."

  By the look on her face, she didn't believe him. Simon folded his arms, matching her suspicion with his own. "Speaking of impetuous – that leads to the last question I have to ask you."

  He shifted his tone of voice from playful to serious. "Why did you come back to fight the Fell Beast?"

  Katarina froze. She scratched her head, wearing an expression like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  "Strange thing to ask," she muttered. "It was a rampaging Fell Beast. Needed to die and–"

  "You had no idea if you could help me. In fact, considering how the Beast easily regenerated from your arrows, and how I was on the ropes at the time...there was plenty of evidence to suggest that your heroics would amount to absolutely nothing. Yet instead of fleeing as the nigh-invincible monster feasted on my corpse, you returned, climbed onto its back, and started stabbing away like a maniac."

  Simon held up a hand to forestall her response. "To be clear – you saved my life. That distraction, in addition to throwing the Warding Orbs later, is what allowed me to prevail against the Beast. Without your timely assistance, myself and all of Springwater would be dead. I am sincerely, honestly grateful that you came back."

  He locked eyes with her. "I just need to know why."

  It was possible that Katarina's answer would be self-serving. Escaping from the Fell Beast's cavern wouldn't have ended the problem, after all. Simon could envision himself making the same choice after a rational analysis of the situation. 'If my life is endangered either way, might as well try killing the Beast before it grows even stronger' – something like that.

  People didn't tend to conduct a rational analysis in the heat of the moment, though. They simply went with their gut, then did their best to justify it afterwards.

  How would she–

  "I just wanted to, alright?"

  Katarina almost sounded embarrassed. "In retrospect, it was foolish. Should've ran to the clinic, grabbed my father, then made for the carriage. The people of Springwater probably would've stopped me, but I still had better odds at surviving that way than attacking a Fell Beast twice my size. It's just...leaving you behind...after everything you'd done for us..."

  She sighed. "I wouldn't have liked what kind of person that made me."

  A genuine smile broadened over Simon's face.

  That was the answer he'd hoped to hear.

  "Follow me." He stepped forward, opening the door to his temporary residence. "I have something to show you."