And still, the world lives!

This is a world with a functioning ecosystem, and this makes Redana smile, attentive to the life all about. Tellus had long since replaced its own ecosystem with sustainable infrastructure systems, and the heart of the Eater of Worlds had been a grand thief of many forced to blend into one. But here, here there is food in abundance, and life without measure.

She follows Lacedo’s lead and patiently waits for red-and-yellow serpents the length of her arm to cross their path, not out of fear of their fangs but out of respect. She sings back the songs of the birds in the canopies in their glittering lavenders and turquoises until Lacedo joins in with a voice as fine as theirs. She watches the tree sharks flit through the wisteria blossoms like fat, happy dogs and offers them the approving smile of an imperial princess: go forth with my blessing and know I have judged you worthy, you ridiculous things.

She is no stranger to sweltering heat; her jacket thins until it is a loose and diaphanous thing, a mere shadow draped over her body, and she sweats with careless ease. When they come to a cliff face that must be climbed, she takes to it with a will that surely surprises Lacedo, for her fingers are clever enough to find any purchase and her arms strong enough to lift her body with ease. Indeed, by the time they reach the top, they are racing— one that Lacedo wins, if only by a hand. Then there is laughter together, and a moment shared as they look out over the beach.

From here it is like a great bone bow in the hands of Artemis, set against the sun-bright sea. A sight that was denied her and all of humanity. A sight that one day would be open to all who dared visit Ridenki.

Only one moment breaks her delight: a low and rumbling sound from the trees. Redana reaches for a sword that is not there and puts her body between that promise of violence and her new friend. Golden eyes peer out from the dark branches, and Redana’s heart aches in her chest, racing and wild.

“Leaper,” Lacedo says, taking Redana’s hand, thawing those tension-locked muscles into motion. A tawny tail flicks as that bearded predator lazily watches them, trying to decide whether they are passers-by, intruders, or food. “Don’t turn your back until it is out of sight, and it won’t dare attack.”

But it will, Redana does not say. She will, whether I’m looking at her or not.