Page 48 of Starside

That’s when I see it, across the way. A book that looks more worn than the others, as if it wasn’t written in a place like this.

I walk around the ring of shelves until I’m standing right in front of it. It’s absent that thrumming energy. I pull it from its shelf, and the chain pulls it back.

A Quest of Life and Death.

I sink to my knees, not bothering with the lock this time, knowing Pelas’s key won’t work. I flip through it as light completely fills the tower, sun pouring in through the skylight like wine entering a goblet.

Some of the pages have been torn out. Some of the ink has smudged, as if the pages got wet.

My quest starts at the Beast Tree. Some of my group hits the ground. Others are luckier. They say you won’t survive without a creature. Most don’t survive the tree at all.

I will report back.

My quest did not end there, I am happy to say. I survived the tree. Many did not. My beast is stubborn, but strong. With him, I feel confident that—

Voices sound below me. My hands tense around the worn cover, the book’s chain rattling.

Pelas. He’s with a group, which is why, I assume, he hasn’t noticed his quill is missing. His voice is full of excitement. It echoes up the tower.

“They’re sleeping now,” he says.

A voice I don’t recognize says, “Good. And the poison you’re making will keep them alive?”

“Yes, yes. I’d rather study their insides while their blood is still flowing. We’ll keep them alive for as long as possible while we conduct our tests.”

I go still.

He’s going to slice us open and study us … while we’re still alive.

Of fucking course he is.

I flip through the pages faster. I had hoped I could read the entire text and commit it to memory, but there’s no time now. My fingers pause at one of the last pages.

The author … he drew a map.

Unlike Zane’s, it’s complete, and strikingly detailed, showing all the way from where we are now to the other edge of Starside, where the gods live. Every town. Every mountain range. Everything he encountered.

This is invaluable.

Pelas is only Level 5, but still, desperately, I try the lock, just in case. The quill gets stuck then drops against the wood.

The voices go quiet.

Then—“Who’s here?”

I remain very still.

“Scholar?”

I take a slow breath. Another.

The stairs groan as they begin climbing.

They’re going to find me. The tower is hollow. There’s nowhere to hide. I don’t even try. They spot me immediately, from several levels down.

“Mortal!” one yells.

Pelas starts running, his gray robes furling around him.