Zachary Holbrook

Where heroes face darkness within and without

But always seek the light

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The Mission:

"To use fantasy world-building to tell stories of growth in the human soul-- for readers ready to be changed by what they read."

My promise to you

The Deadhorse Guardians

Chapter 1: Smoke without Fire

Smoke without fire loomed over the city that would determine Haikato’s fate– the city he’d come too late to save.

Haikato had seen the smoke on the horizon as he approached the day before. Before that, he’d encountered hundreds of refugees fleeing the shadowspawn invasion. Although both testified that Baon City had fallen, Haikato had hoped to find the city guard still holding out. But now, as he knelt on the cliff overlooking the city–

Look on the bright side, the Aura said, its voice emanating from Haikato’s own throat yet silent to any ears other than his own. We’ll have the city to ourselves.

Below– dead streets. Haikato couldn’t even spot any shadowspawn roaming, although he knew better than to assume the monsters weren’t there. Above– living smoke. Black smoke that contorted in the air as if trying to strangle the sun’s rays. Smoke that would coalesce into shadowspawn, creating more and more monsters until Haikato fulfilled his duty and sealed the breach.

Well, to ourselves except for the beings of pure darkness that want to kill us, the Aura said. But if you overlook that part, it’s a good vacation spot. Too bad I can’t remember it better. That darn horse.

“We should’ve gotten here sooner,” Haikato said.

The Aura went silent for a moment– then spoke in a serious tone. Haikato, the shadowspawn were attacking when I escaped. The city may have fallen before you even set out.

Haikato nodded, surprised to hear an actually helpful insight from the Aura. Ever since it had passed to him from the horse, its contributions had consisted of composing irreverent ditties, falling asleep whenever Haikato asked for its advice on the main quest, and dragging him into useless side quests.

The Aura gave a self-satisfied hum, at peace with the world now that Haikato had admitted it was right.

Of course, the Aura said. The downside of the city being abandoned means that no one will appreciate how stylish I am.

Haikato rolled his eyes. The Aura’s physical manifestation– a bow tie aglow with a faint mystic light– may have been stylish in a different context, but paired with Haikato’s dusty, travel-worn robes, it just looked weird.

I need a plan. Haikato took shelter behind a rock overlooking the city. Baon may have fallen, but he still had the mission given by the Aura– seal the breach to stop any more shadowspawn from coming through. If he moved quickly, he could end the invasion here and earn his place on the Guardian Council. But hesitating risked letting the shadowspan multiply until they were strong enough to defeat the army following a few days behind– and failing in his mission meant Haikato himself would go back to being a mere stable boy.

“Are we close enough to tell if Master Zaru is alive?” Haikato asked.

I sense human presence in the city, the Aura said. I can’t say for certain how many, but I recognize my old companion among them. If we get closer, I can lead you to him.

Haikato’s heart leapt. Ever since Zaru’s Aura had shown up in his pasture, bonded to a half-dead horse and bearing news of the breach in Baon, Haikato had feared for his mentor’s life. As the Guardian assigned to Baon, Zaru would fight to the death rather than abandon his city.

The fact that Zaru still lived was crucial to Haikato’s mission. Because Zaru had been in Baon when the shadowspawn came, he’d likely be able to pinpoint the attack’s origin and thus the location of the breach.

Of course, going into the heart of shadowspawn territory meant leaving Mina behind– and that meant Haikato had to find her shelter.

Haikato scanned the cliff’s edge. Although most of the structures in the city lay in the valley below, close to the famous Chasm and the gemstone mines that secured Baon’s wealth, a few abandoned guard towers stood on the city’s outer rim. He could see one to the east, perhaps two miles along the cliff’s edge. Mina could wait there. With luck, he’d find Zaru and bring him back by sundown.

Haikato looked in his pack. I need to think through my assets. Three days’ rations. Flint and tinder. Rope. His weapons– a shield and wakizashi, the short blade Master Zaru had given him upon graduation, and that Haikato had polished every night after he finished in the stables. His geometer’s compass, straightedge, and— his spellbook was missing.

Oh, right. Mina wanted to look at the pictures.

“Guardian Haikato?”

And a twelve-year-old girl. Although that was more of a liability. 

“You don’t have to call me that,” Haikato said. Although he’d graduated from Guardian School, he wasn’t a Guardian– not until he sealed that breach.

“Do you think anyone survived?”

“Lots of people,” Haikato said. “We met them on the road.”

“Anyone who stayed in the city, I mean.”

Haikato glanced up at Mina. The girl had been separated from her family during the mad rush of refugees fleeing rumors of the shadowspawn. Her sun-browned skin and calloused palms marked her as the daughter of a labor-class family– banana farmers, she’d told him. She’d stumbled upon Haikato while wandering between empty towns, trying to find her parents, and Haikato– unable to spare the time to take her back to the capital, where she’d be safe– reluctantly agreed to let her accompany him.

And now– her tone was hopeful. Did she know someone in Baon?

“Few, if any,” Haikato said. Best not get her hopes up.

Mina took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Good timing,” Haikato said. “There’s something I need to talk to you about as well.”

“You want me to stay behind, don’t you?”

“Dragging a kid into a monster’s lair isn’t part of my job description.”

“But didn’t you swear an oath to defend the defenseless?”

“When I graduated, yes.”

“I– I want to go down with you. I’ll be safer at your side, won’t I?”

Haikato eyed the cloud of smoke. Although it had spread to form a ragged umbrella over Baon, it didn’t yet cover the ridge on which he stood– which meant the shadowspawn hadn’t yet struck out past the city.

Probably.

“You’ll be safer waiting. Hiding.” Haikato pointed to the guard tower.

“Guardian Haikato,” Mina said. “My brother’s down there. He was a student at Baon University when…”

Haikato bit his lip. He ought to say your brother is dead but found himself unwilling to quench the hope in Mina’s eyes.

“The streets will be crawling with shadowspawn,” he said. “But I promise you that if I find your brother, I’ll bring him back safely.”

“I want to go with you. I know what he looks like. And two sets of eyes will be better than one.”

“No.”

“You have to defend the defenseless, right? So if I go, you have to follow me?”

“Defending the defenseless isn’t the same as saving the stupid. If you make me, I’ll tie you up and leave you in that tower.”

Mina bit her lip– then stepped back, eyes glancing down. “My brother’s name is Nanto.”

“If I find anyone with that name, I’ll rescue him.” Haikato put a hand on Mina’s shoulder. “But first, let’s get you to shelter. And I’ll need my spellbook back.” 

Mina handed him the leather-bound codex. Haikato flipped through the pages, glancing at each of the geometric theorems he’d inscribed. Simple and repetitive, nowhere near as powerful as the spells Master Zaru kept on hand. But Haikato made up for his weakness in geometry with his skill in swordplay– and on this quest, only one theorem mattered. The simplest spell of all, one that each Guardian could cast only once, and only when bonded to an Aura. 

Haikato didn’t need the book on his person– the theorems written by his hand, forged from his understanding, gave him a connection to the pages that allowed him to consume them for spellcasting up to a few miles away. But he felt better keeping such an important object close.

Haikato put the book in his pack– and as he did, he noticed writing on the pages toward the end, pages he’d left blank. He let the book fall open. Copies of his own theorems– but in a different hand. 

“You did this?” Haikato held the book toward Mina.

Mina shuffled her feet. “Yeah.”

“Not bad. You know geometry?”

“A little. I’m not as defenseless as I look.”

Haikato replaced the book and slung the pack over his shoulder– then froze as a shriek split the sky. He looked up to see the smoke curling overhead, thickening into a winged shape. A batlike creature with glistening fangs formed, then dove toward Mina.

Haikato whipped out his wakizashi and stood in front of Mina. The motion came instinctively, the fruit of years of practice, so that as he took action his mind was free to draw on the spells in his book.

Air to fire. As the bat-shadow dove, Haikato entered Shapesense, becoming aware of the molecules of air around him, each one in the microscopic shape of the eight-faced equilateral solid– the octahedron. His mind raced through the proofs showing how these shapes could be transmuted, without change in volume, into the four-faced solid corresponding to fire– the tetrahedron. And knowing that he had mathematical proof that such change was possible, he willed it to become reality, and fire burst from the space between his hands and streaked toward the descending monster.

The bat-shadow shrieked in pain and veered to the side as the flames struck it. It crashed to the rocky ground, smoldering, then stumbled to its feet. Haikato darted forward, striking with his wakizashi, not at where the beast was, but where he knew it would be– or would’ve been, if it had behaved with the same reckless ferocity he’d observed in previous Shadowspawn. But instead of attacking head-on, the beast dodged to the side. Haikato spun, and the beast lunged with claws extended– not at him, but at Mina. 

Mina stumbled back, the beast’s claws swiping the air inches from her neck. Haikato leapt, his blade slicing the beast’s neck. As soon as he slashed the creature’s leathery skin, it deflated like a popped pig bladder, smoke pouring out and dissipating.

Mina thrust her arms out over the corpse. Fire burst into existence between her palms, igniting the smoke and what remained of the shadowspawn before its essence could rejoin the smoke-cloud overhead.

The Aura yawned. That sounded exciting. Did you win?

Haikato slammed his wakizashi back into his sheath. Dizziness washed over him, and he sank to one knee for a moment. Sloppy. He’d spent too much energy on the transformation. A more experienced geometer would’ve only changed the air directly in front of the Shadowspawn.

“So you do know geometry,” Haikato said. Mina hadn’t just been looking at the pictures in his spellbook- she’d studied it. “But your spell came a bit too late. It almost had its claws into you.”

“I knew you were going to kill it,” Mina said. “I didn’t want to take away a chance to fulfill your oath.”

Haikato chuckled, forcing himself to ignore his nausea and rise to his feet.

“They have eyes in the sky,” Mina said. “This ridge won’t be safe. I have to come with you now, right?”

Haikato swore. The smoke cloud over the city widened even as they spoke. And if the breach had grown to the point where the shadowspawn could take winged form– 

He knelt in front of Mina and met her eyes. “Now that you’ve seen one of those up close, are you sure you want to continue?”

Mina nodded. “I can be brave.”

“Good,” Haikato said. He wasn’t sure how this fit with the whole ‘defend the defenseless’ thing, but taking her back to the capital meant turning his back not only on the shadowspawn, but on his mission— and his one chance to prove his worth to the Guardian Council. 

Haikato loosened the bow tie and tossed it toward Mina. As he did, the tie’s strap magically lengthened so that Haikato held one end in his hand while Mina caught the bow. Haikato tied his end around a scraggly tree jutting from the earth near the cliff.

Uh oh, the Aura said. Are you planning to climb me?

“Is that a problem?” Haikato whispered. “Master Zaru used you as a rope while teaching in Guardian School.”

Alright, the Aura said. But be careful. I’m ticklish!

“I’m not the one you have to worry about,” Haikato said. He turned to Mina. “Hold on tight. You’re coming with me after all.”

Three out of four. The climbing rule Master Zaru had taught Haikato during his first year in Guardian School– always make sure three of your hands and/or feet were secure before moving the fourth. If he were the one using the bow tie Aura as a rope, this rule would be unnecessary. As it was, Mina carefully let out the strap knotted about her waist, the other end secured to the top of the cliff, whereas for Haikato a single misstep meant a hundred-foot drop and a grisly end.

Of course, the Aura chimed in. Even if you do reach the bottom, there’s a good chance you die anyway.

“Real encouraging,” Haikato muttered. The bond between Guardian and Aura meant the Aura could speak to him telepathically even when they weren’t touching. Had it been this chatty when bonded to Master Zaru?

 It didn’t help that he still felt woozy from the spell he’d cast earlier. The Aura enhanced innate geometric power, so it should help with that. But perhaps Haikato’s power was so small that even the Aura’s force modifier could hardly make a difference.

A geometer needed three things to reshape the fabric of existence– first, understanding of the relationship between elements expressed in mathematical terms. That had never come as easily to Haikato as it had to his classmates, but years of study at Guardian School had given him a decent grasp. 

Second, a place to write. Most geometers used paper. Unlike stone, paper spells would be consumed after a few castings, but the portability was worth the tradeoff. 

Third, innate power– Haikato’s weakness. Although he’d grown in strength during his years of training, he’d never gotten close to the range and power he’d seen in Master Zaru’s transformations. 

Even some of Haikato’s classmates who’d started training after him– students with no experience in geometry but who came from bloodlines renowned for their power– quickly surpassed him. And after Haikato graduated, his low scores in geometry kept him from finding a job any more glamorous than a stable boy.

Sweat trickled down Haikato’s forehead. As morning wore on to afternoon, he normally stopped, resting in the midday heat to push on once evening fell. But Master Zaru could be in danger, and every second of delay meant more time for the shadowspawn to come through the breach. 

At least he had his robes– light, airy clothing that kept his skin from burning while also allowing it to breathe. Mina, for her part, never seemed bothered by the noonday sun. Haikato supposed having worked under its glare her whole life made her used to it.

“Water?” 

Haikato glanced at Mina to see her holding out her canteen. He shook his head. “Save it.”

“We have plenty. I just refilled it.”

Haikato furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I refilled it from the earth. It’s written on the cliff. See?”

Haikato craned his neck, scanning the rough cliff face and realizing that the markings on the rock weren’t random weather patterns– they were carvings. Carvings showing a simple geometric proposition. Earth to water. Worn down from hundreds of castings, but not yet consumed.

“I think people used to climb this route to get in and out of the city,” Mina said. “Someone wanted to make sure they didn’t get thirsty on their way.”

Haikato remembered hearing something about that in history class. Before Baon City carved the Great Stair leading in and out of its valley, any commerce had to be carried straight up the cliff face. The elaborate system of pulleys and ropes that had once enabled transportation was gone, but a few traces of old ways remained. 

If they’d arrived during peacetime they could’ve just gone down the stairs– but the stairs would now be watched by the Shadowspawn.

“You recognize this proof, too?” Haikato asked.

Mina shrugged. “It was all in your book.”

I like this girl, the Aura said.

Strange, Haikato thought. How often did a family of banana farmers have the education to understand the basic tenets of geometry? 

Come to think of it, how did a family of banana farmers scrape together the funds to send their son to Baon University?

Well, at least this meant Mina would be of some use on this journey. Haikato made sure his left hand and both feet were secure, then unhitched his own flask from his belt and handed it to her. “Here– fill this one too.”

Mina pressed Haikato’s flask against the cliff face– then cried out in alarm as she accidentally transmuted her foothold into water and fell. The rope in her other hand jerked tight, knocking her against the cliff, winded but otherwise unhurt.

Haikato chuckled. “Careful there.”

Mina flushed. “I think there was more iron in there than I guessed.”

Iron? 

Haikato dipped into Shapesense. Most of the cliff was earth, with cube-shaped molecules. But mingled in with the cubes were more complex elements, including the non-equilateral polysolids that made up various metals. A large vein of iron ore ran through the portion Mina had transmuted. 

Haikato frowned. Earth-to-water was easy enough. But proofs with complex elements? 

“Have you studied geometry before?” Haikato asked.

“Aunt and Uncle sent us some books.” Mina shrugged. “I’d read them after I’d finished working the plantation for the day.”

“Are your aunt and uncle geometers?”

Mina blushed and looked away. “Yeah. They live in the capital. They’re pretty rich.”

Strange. Class distinctions weren’t as strong as they’d been in the days before the Arastian reforms, but still, geometers related to banana farmers?

That was a question for another day. They reached the ground, and Haikato looked over the ruins of Baon City. The rows of towering stone houses– ripped from the earth with the most advanced geometrical techniques in the kingdom– still stood, but with shattered windows and doors hanging on busted hinges. Wisps of black smoke floated from entryways like the dying gasps of a wounded man.

Mina untied the Aura’s strap from around her waist and tossed it back to Haikato. As the bow tie left her hand, it dissolved into a streak of light, then reappeared fastened around Haikato’s neck.

“Can you sense any shadowspawn nearby?” Haikato whispered.

In the city, but none close. Head toward the center. That’s where I sense Zaru.

“If it looks like I’ll have to fight any, give me enough warning that I can get Mina out of the way,” Haikato said. “I may be crazy to bring a kid here, but I won’t endanger her more than necessary.”

Mina broke into the conversation with a sharp laugh. “If you think you’re crazy, what does that say about me? I’m putting my life into the hands of a man who keeps talking to his bow tie!”

Haikato raised his eyebrows. Mina smirked, finished coiling the rope, and handed it to Haikato.

“It’s not a bow tie,” Haikato said as he put the rope in his pack. “It’s one half of the symbiotic relationship that keeps the whole world from ending up like this city.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t look silly when you talk to it.”

“It’s helping me find Master Zaru.”

Mina’s face grew somber. “Does it know how to find my brother? Nanto?”

The Aura hummed. Nanto? The name rings a bell. He was– he was– oh no, I’ve lost it. Maybe it was one of the memories I lost when I was a horse. But anyway, I can’t recognize any individuals in the city other than Zaru.

Haikato shook his head. “The best thing for your brother is to get this breach sealed. That will destroy the shadowspawn– and once the city’s clear of monsters, we can find him. But before we can do any of that, I need to find Master Zaru. Sounds good?”

Mina nodded.

“Then stay close,” Haikato said. He took up his shield and wakizashi and crept down the street.

As they entered the city, Haikato stopped to inspect one of the ruined homes, hoping to find a hiding place where survivors of the shadowspawn’s purge might be lingering. He stepped through a busted doorway, Mina following in his shadow. Cool air washed over him, courtesy of the twenty-foot vaunted ceiling. 

This would be the wealthy quarter. Toward the center of the city, near the mines that had formed the backbone of Baon’s economy, the laborers would dwell in short, squat homes. But the Shadowspawn, it seemed, had shown no distinction. Haikato found a hidden door to a cellar– a safe space built into the home for wars and other disasters. The hidden door was ripped open, and only black smoke remained in the nook beyond.

If even the wealthiest and most prepared couldn’t survive, then those who did must be few indeed.

“Let’s go, kid,” Haikato said. But Mina didn’t answer, instead standing still with her head bowed and one hand resting against the cool stone wall.

“Mina?”

“There’s something written here.” Mina traced a finger along words carved into the stone of the doorway.

“A spell?”

“No. A poem.” Mina sang softly.

Dawn is calling

Oh my darling

When the shadows turn to shapes

For our terrors all have melted

And in triumph comes the day

“Nanto set this one to music,” Mina whispered. “He’d play the violin and I’d sing. He sang it to me one night–” Mina looked away. “One night when I didn’t feel like singing.”

Haikato cleared his throat. “We should keep moving. Aura, any shadowspawn nearby?”

Not yet. But you should say something encouraging! Mina looks sad.

Haikato stepped out into the street. Mina stayed, her head bowed and her fingers resting against the inscription.

“Mina?”

Mina shook herself as if waking from slumber. “I’m coming.”

“Hey.” Haikato took her shoulder. “I know it looks bad, but we don’t know your brother didn’t make it. We’ll keep looking for him– we just have to seal the breach first.”

Mina looked up and smiled.

They returned to the streets, staying in the shadows as Haikato followed the Aura’s directions. After about an hour, the Aura cried out, we’re close!

That was when they found the Chasm.

Haikato swore softly. He’d known about Baon’s Chasm, of course– the hundred-foot wide gorge, rumoured to be bottomless, that slashed the city in two and provided the ore and precious gems that had made Baon wealthy. He’d just forgotten to consider that they’d need to cross it.

The pulley systems along the edge that lowered miners into the chasm had all been destroyed. And although there were bridges, they’d be guarded. As Haikato knelt beside the chasm, he felt the blackness of it threaten to swallow him up. Although the sun was at its zenith, the gorge seemed to consume its rays and still hunger for more.

Well, we would be close, the Aura said. If we could fly. 

Mina got down on her belly and crawled until her head poked over the precipice. “Wow. It’s beautiful. I can see the gemstones sparkling like stars.”

“Yeah,” Haikato said. “Something like that.” A morbid fear sprang upon him– what if this was the breach, immune to ever being closed, and ready to devour any who tried? 

He dipped into Shapesense to shake off that fear. The chasm was huge, yes, but it was made of familiar, stable materials– cubes and metallic polysolids. Nothing like the shifting, writhing molecules that made up Shadow.

“Ok,” Haikato said. “It’s a big hole in the ground. We have to cross it.” He glanced to the right and saw an arched bridge in the distance– but two hulking, spider-like shadowspawn slept on top of it. 

“We need a bridge,” Mina said. She pulled out Haikato’s spellbook, opened it to a blank page in the back, and began sketching.

That darn horse, the Aura said.

“Horse?” Haikato asked.

Master Zaru and I lived in this city. If I hadn’t had to spend time in a horse’s brain, I would remember a way to get across this.

“Horse?” Mina looked up.

Haikato put a hand to the bow tie. “The Aura came to me on a horse. When Baon was attacked, Master Zaru didn’t have time to get out and pass the Aura on to a new Guardian personally. So he bequeathed it to a horse, and the horse carried it to me.”

“What happened to the horse?”

“It collapsed from exhaustion,” Haikato said, retelling the story the Aura had told him. “A shadowspawn tailed it and attacked when the horse couldn’t run anymore. That was when I found it. I slew the shadowspawn and bonded with the Aura moments before the horse died.”

And if he hadn’t been there, a stable boy working in that particular pasture, the horse would’ve died before passing on the Aura– which meant the Aura would’ve been gravely injured, and centuries would pass before it could bond again to a Guardian and seal breaches as they opened. 

At first he’d feared it was a fluke. He’d waited night and day for an Aura to choose him, yes, but what if this one only ended up with him out of desperation? What if he wasn’t the right person to seal the breach? Not a true Guardian, but an accidental Aura-bearer?

But Master Zaru’s teachings rang in his ears. A Guardian is never an accident. When an Aura comes to you, you may not feel ready, you may not even understand the true parameters of your mission, but trust what I’ve learned– you will succeed if you don’t give up. You may be surprised by what success looks like, but it will be waiting for you.

And so he’d made his decision– send a message to Master Baru, head of the Guardian Council, to let him know a breach had opened in Baon, and trek north without waiting for a reply.

“The horse died,” Mina said.

“Yes.”

“I don’t like that part.”

It was just a random horse, Haikato thought. But he said, “I didn’t either.”

“You should change it. If the bards ever write a song about you sealing the breach in Baon and saving the world, tell them the horse survived. Tell them it became your mighty steed that you rode against the darkness.”

“Right.” Haikato grinned. “I’ll use that to replace the part where I mucked horsecrap dawn to dusk every day for horses I didn’t own.”

“I thought picking bananas every day was bad,” Mina said. “But you’ve got me beat.” With that, she rested Haikato’s spellbook on her knee and continued sketching.

Haikato wiped sweat from his brow and sipped some water from his flask. Traveling during the hottest part of the day was exhausting, but it meant the shadowspawn would be at their weakest as well. Those two on the bridge– could he take them by surprise? 

“Stay here, kid.” Haikato snuck toward the bridge. The stairs cut into the bridge rose so high that he couldn’t see the other side, but at their apex, the two bulbous beasts slept. Their bulk covered the entire bridge, so sneaking past them was out of the question, but if he could get them to leave the bridge…

Haikato jogged back to Mina, an idea forming. “I need my book.”

Mina handed him the spellbook. “We could cross the chasm with this.”

She’d sketched a bridge that spanned two pages. References to theorems filled the margins. 

Haikato shook his head. “Not even the king’s engineers build bridges with pure geometry.”

“I could do it,” Mina said. “At least, I could try.”

“I have a better idea,” Haikato said. Even if Mina had the raw strength needed to perform the transmutation without falling into a coma, a single mistake could cause the bridge to crumble and send them both plummeting into endless darkness.

Haikato flipped through the book. As he did, ashes fell out and fluttered to the ground– remnants of paper consumed when he’d cast air-to-fire earlier. Fortunately, he still had a dozen or so copies of that spell left– as well as the one he planned to use now.

 Air-to-air. Easy to cast even at great distances, this would allow him to rearrange the air on the opposite side of the bridge so as to create a loud but harmless boom. The shadowspawn would go to investigate the explosion, and he’d grab Mina, sprint across, and take refuge in one of the buildings before they returned.

Mina furrowed her brow as he explained the plan. “That might work.”

Together, they snuck into the house closest to the bridge– a short, squat dwelling with one room and no windows. The shadowspawn kept sleeping.

“Can you sense any others?” Haikato whispered.

No, the Aura said. It’s strange– I expected to encounter more by now.

At one point, the shadowspawn had been numerous enough to defeat the entire city guard. Where were they now? 

“Haikato,” Mina hissed. “I see someone.”

There’s a human presence, the Aura said. But it’s not Zaru.

Haikato joined Mina in peeking out the doorway. Mina waved at a figure standing across the chasm. Haikato grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “Don’t let him see us!”

“I think it might be Nanto,” Mina said. “He seems familiar. If I could just get closer–”

“It could be someone who’ll betray us to the shadowspawn as soon as he sees us.” Haikato peeked out again. The figure was gone. 

Haikato dipped into Shapesense and focused on the air on the far side of the chasm. He had one chance to get across this bridge and find Zaru. No distractions. 

“Get ready,” he whispered– and then devoted his mind wholly to the theorem.

The two shadowspawn shrieked as the sound of an explosion echoed across the chasm. They leapt to their feet, chittering, and skittered down the bridge away from Haikato.

Haikato grabbed Mina’s hand and burst into a sprint. He hit the stairs, climbing up and up, sweat soaking into his robes. He couldn’t hear the shadowspawn, but had they truly left, or were they obscured by his thundering heart?

Mina tripped. Her head thunked against the stone, and she pushed herself up, a thin trickle of blood on her forehead. Haikato yanked her to her feet, and they kept running.

They reached the apex. The stairs went down from here, but one of the shadowspawn was coming back up the opposite way. 

Haikato’s wakizashi flew into his hand. He left Mina and charged the shadowspawn. The spidery beast shrieked and leapt toward him. Haikato dove, ignoring the pain as he tumbled down stone steps, and slid underneath the shadowspawn. He drove his wakizashi into the beast’s underside. Sticky black fluid spurted from the gash, and Haikato carved deeper. The beast writhed, throwing its weight back and forth, and Haikato had to inch on his back, lying as flat as he could against the stairs to avoid being crushed. He slid out from under the beast, leapt up, and sprinted down the stairs.

The shadowspawn turned around, its legs wobbly as it continued bleeding from its stomach– bleeding black blood that Haikato knew was highly flammable.

The moment he was far enough away to avoid igniting himself, Haikato transmuted the air into a spark. The shadowspawn screeched and erupted into a bonfire, collapsing on the bridge. Haikato gasped for breath and tried to wipe the blood away from his face. 

Then he glanced at the top of the bridge and saw Mina– and realized he’d just blocked her way with a flaming carcass.

Air to water. Haikato dipped into Shapesense and tried to remember the theorem. He should’ve practiced this one more– but instead, he’d relied on turning earth to water to supply his journey. And he didn’t dare transmute part of the bridge to douse the flames.

Chitin clicked against stone behind him. Haikato whirled to see the second shadowspawn at the base of the stairs. He raised his blade and advanced to meet it. 

The shadowspawn charged, ascending with shocking speed for its bulk. But before it reached Haikato, it rose into the air with a screech of pain, impaled on a stone spike that rose from the stair. 

Mina?

Haikato dipped into Shapesense. But the spell hadn’t been cast by Mina. Instead, the theorems came from a figure on the other side of the chasm, hands outstretched toward the bridge. In Shapesense, Haikato could see the geometer’s thoughts latching onto the air, commanding it to become stone, proving that this way was the best way, the only way.

Then the geometer crumpled to the ground.

Behind Haikato, another transmutation was happening, and this one did come from Mina. Water poured over the first shadowspawn, extinguishing the blaze and allowing Mina to run safely down the stairs. She edged her way past the impaled shadowspawn– the spike took up most of the bridge, and dismissing it would be impossible, since material that had already been transmuted was the hardest for a geometer to change. But once she squeezed past it, she raced past Haikato and to the stranger’s side.

“Nanto!”

Haikato jogged after her. Mina pushed back the stranger’s hood and cradled his head in her lap. She looked up at Haikato and said in a broken whisper, “It’s him.”