I throw the package of sausages into the air and catch it. Bann’s gaze follows it unflinching. The smell of raw meat pushes through the cloth. Bann licks his lips.

  Lian slaps him on top of the head with her palm. ”Stop drooling. Remember it’s Folke’s party. He gets the first one.”

  Bann chuckles.

  It’s already dark and we have a fire going on the outskirts of the town. This is our place. Far enough so we won’t get bothered, but close enough to reach. I’ve packed whatever I thought I might need. I have enough provisions to get to the city and back, my bow and quiver, a knife, not much else. There isn’t much else. I live with the others in the lodge, so I have no furniture or other responsibilities to take care of. Most of my stuff is always packed and ready to go, anyway.

  The gang is all here. There’s Bann. He’s more clever than what people think or he pretends to be. He’s huge, and he plays the role of the big guy perfectly. He said once that it makes things easier, keeps expectations lower. Lian, on the other hand, is probably less clever than people think. She’s cunning, but sometimes the way she cuts corners when thinking makes me gasp. “Worst possible combination, quick and dumb,” as Lille once said about her when she thought I couldn’t hear. Still, Lian’s a good friend. Never a dull moment with her.

  Hendrik is two years older than the rest of us. He’s already a fully trained hunter. If you ask me, he’s a bit mediocre, but a good guy, a good hunter. We’ve seen less of him lately. He’s been out a lot, already going on longer hunts alone.

  ”So, tell us about this adventure,” he says.

  I start opening the package of sausages and smirk. ”Oh, it’s only some city business. They call themselves Janitors—”

  I’m interrupted by Lian snorting. ”Your adventure is cleaning lavatories in Tenorsbridge?”

  I roll my eyes but can’t help chuckling. ”Very funny. You should have seen the guy. He snuck up on Lille. He got close enough to put a hand on my shoulder without her noticing.”

  Hendrik whistles.

  I sort of resent doing it, but using Lille is the easiest way of making the point. The Janitor was weird, scary. I shake my head to drive away the creepy feeling. ”Lille said that they knew things she never even said to them, but might have said. When I talked with him, it felt like he kept replying to things before I said them.”

  Lian scratches her head. ”That can’t be. How would that even work?”

  ”I don’t know, but he promised to explain everything to me later. They said I have until tonight.”

  Hendrik pokes the fire and throws in one more log. ”It takes at least a day to get to Tenorsbridge. You can’t travel when it’s dark. They’ll probably come in the morning, so you’ll have the whole night.”

  I hmm in response. I remember Lille saying that the Janitors appeared yesterday. Old rules might not apply, anymore.

  The skin of the sausage cracks. I rip leaves from the thyme and throw them and the sprigs into the pan. The grease bubbles and I lick my lips. I have to swallow to keep from drooling on my chin.

  I poke at the fire, gazing into the dying embers and turning them over and over. Bann sighs and leans his back on a tree trunk as Lian pats her stomach. In addition to the sausages, I grabbed a lot of other stuff too. Some for the road, but I also wanted to throw a proper party for the gang. They’ll owe me for this one. Hendrik hovers around Lian. I wonder if he’ll finally manage to say something to her.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I smell ozone.

  ”Time to go,” the Janitor says in a voice so soft I barely hear it. His eyes stare from below his cowl into the fire. ”The tavern, right away.”

  He disappears before I have a chance to say anything. There’s a slight breeze like a gust of wind rushing to fill the space where he sat. Hendrik is still looking at Lian, and Bann has his eyes closed. Lian sees nothing, as she’s concentrating on digging something out from between her teeth with her fingernail.

  Bann opens a single eye. ”What’s up? Why the face?”

  ”Time to go,” I repeat.

  I arrive at the tavern, winded. I didn’t run that hard, but the excitement and anticipation make my breath short. I stop and steady myself, pull back my shoulders, and straighten my back. The door opens as I’m drawing in a long breath. I half expect it’s the Janitor trying to impress me again, but it’s Lille.

  She’s not even looking at me as she pushes the door open with her left hand. ”You sounded like a stampede, running like that. Come in already.”

  I twist and make sure not to poke her with my bow as I squeeze past. The warmth of the tavern washes over me in contrast to the cool night air. The heavy smell of food and people still lingers, but the room is empty, except for Lille and the Janitor. Durn must have closed the place down early. As I enter, the Janitor drops the last clean-picked bone on the plate and pushes the plate away from himself.

  He sighs a long sigh, a smile still playing on his lips. Then his smile falls away. ”We’re heading to Tenorsbridge to meet the rest of the team. I’ll take us there once you’re ready.” He drums on the table with both hands while talking. ”Say what you’re going to say.”

  His last words make no sense to me. Then Lille grabs my shoulders and turns me toward her. ”Listen to me, Folke. I don’t like what is going on or the way it’s being done. But my feelings don’t matter here.” Her grip on my shoulders tigthens. “Don’t make us proud. Instead, come back alive and as yourself.”

  The Janitor’s still drumming the table, seemingly not listening to us at all. His eyebrows move in time with his tapping like he’s playing some private song.

  Lille looks like she might say something more, but she hesitates for too long. The screech of the Janitor’s chair against the floor makes Lille let go and take a step backward.

  He leaves the chair standing in the middle of the floor and takes a step closer. ”Take my hand.”

  I remember he said his name is Lictor, but I can’t yet think of him as a real person. He doesn’t seem to be here. His hand is reached out toward me, but his eyes are fixed on a candle burning at the edge of the table.

  I lift my hand slowly and the Janitor grabs hold of it. World winks at me. Darkness covers my vision for a heartbeat. When it passes, I’m somewhere else. My ears pop and the Janitor lets go of my hand. I run it over my face, trying to wipe away the cobwebs. It’s like I’ve passed through something sticky and intangible, but there’s nothing on my face.

  ”We traveled through the ether. The feeling will pass in a moment. Welcome to Tenorsbridge, Folke.”

  I exhale a breath that still smells of the tavern, of home, and breathe in the dry, unfamiliar air. It’s cold and there isn’t a single smell to it. I lick my lips, trying not to show how bewildered I am. If teratomes can exist, maybe teleportation can too.

  I look around the hall, rising in a dome above us. It’s huge and empty, except for a pedestal with a pyramid on it in the middle of the room. The thing stands around waist-high and feels like a miniature monument. Lanterns illuminate the whole space. They must be magical, as the light doesn’t flicker or smoke at all. I think of teratomes and take a deep breath. This is it.

  Adventure.

  The Janitor walks a couple of steps toward the pyramid and raises his hand to hover over it. He takes care not to touch it, as if it would burn his hand if he did. On closer inspection, the shape resembles a mountain more than a pyramid. Its shape is organic, haphazard. Bumps and wedges jut out of it, runes circling and snaking around its whole surface. The pedestal isn’t merely a base for the pyramid, but the two are molded together. The pedestal’s stone surface is also layered with runes, shining with a blue light.

  He offers his other hand to me. I hesitate, my hand hanging by my leg. I didn’t go to meet Ral like he asked. Gran’s words about war and kids play in my ears. I wonder what Lille was about to say to me before the Janitor grabbed me.

  ”I’ll take you back and let you finish the discussion with Lille, if you want,” the Janitor says, hand held out. Then, he smiles. ”And please, Folke, start thinking of me as Lictor. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together in the future. There’s no need for titles, not when so much is at stake.”

  His smile is easy, open. Maybe this won’t be as weird as I feared. The Janitor, Lictor, stays completely still and lets me grab his hand.

  He doesn’t move. I tighten my grip a bit and when I do, he presses his other hand on the pyramid. The pyramid lights up and there’s a slight hum, then the glow fades.

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