“Who were you talking to?” Thundar asked as Alex sat back down, fish skewers in hand. “It sounded like someone was yelling down there. Kinda looked like it too.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Alex said.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Alex hadn’t been able to confirm that Amir was pointing the investigation in his direction. While it was true that Ursula had that outburst and said stuff that a demon summoner might say—one who seemed to have a deep hatred of the divine—Baelin had also said similar things himself. Which didn’t prove anything. If Alex went around making baseless accusations against people, he’d be no better than Minervus.

Besides, spreading hypotheses without proof was bad science, and he could picture Professor Jules glaring at him for even thinking about doing that.

“No, seriously, I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said again.

Thundar shrugged. “Alright, well let’s eat some food then.”

Alex passed the steaming fish skewers to Theresa, who passed them down the line.

“You okay?” She asked him.

“Huh? Yeah,” Alex said.

She frowned, peering up at him. “…you looked like something was bothering you. What was that commotion at the food-stalls? I heard something about Oreca and deities?”

Alex blinked. Sometimes he forgot just how sharp her hearing had become. “It’s…let’s just say that people got a little heated about their beliefs.”

She watched him closely. “…right.”

Ding!

The diving bell rang, signalling the start of the Great Water Hunt. Alex and Theresa quickly looked to the sea.

“Goooooo liiiiittle brother!” Nua-Oge cried.

Splash!

Dozens of divers dove off the boats, gracefully plunging into the water, though Grimloch didn’t really dive so much as smash into the water’s surface.

Illusions rippled above the audience, giving the spectators a view from beneath the waves: the glass bowl containing the school of red fish dropped into the water, then split apart, scattering the fish in all directions. A net floated at the perimeter of the hunting area, keeping the fish from escaping, and anything else from entering.

Contestants were propelling themselves downward—their heads covered by Orbs of Air—and casting spells as quickly as they could. Some traced their limbs in light, which flared, then instantly hurled them through the water like flight spells. Others transformed their legs into long green or silver fins that flapped like a fish’s fins.

Contestants of amphibious or aquatic races—like selachar, merfolk or frog-like beastfolk—had no need of spells for propulsion; they used their natural swimming ability to break through the water after their quarry.

Alex watched closely.

‘You know, that’s something I should really start training,’ he thought. ‘Swimming.’

Not many people in Alric knew how to swim, and as a boy, he’d heard about a husband and wife drowning in a nearby river.

‘It’d be pretty awful if I survived monsters, mana vampires and wizards to just fall in some lake one day and drown,’ he thought.

Besides, there was something beautiful about swimming.

He watched the graceful divers shoot through the water in something that was half-glide, half-dance. Even Grimloch’s movements had a beauty to them. The shark man’s life-enforced limbs cut through the sea with perfect grace and rhythm. On land, he was surprisingly agile, but his every movement was like a bonedrinker chasing down prey.

In the water, he was like a falcon on the wind.

“I wouldn’t want to fight him underwater,” Theresa murmured.

“I don’t think anyone would,” Alex agreed. “At all. Oh shoot! Look at that!”

Crash!

Grimloch slammed a selachar diver out of his way.

The ‘attacking’ of other contestants was allowed—limited to pushing, shoving or pulling—and Grimloch was using the rule aggressively. He was by far the largest diver in the contest and whenever he rammed someone, they’d be catapulted at least a dozen feet through the water.

He pursued the red fish enthusiastically, knocking aside his competition like a charging bull; the illusion showed his silent jaws snapping up his red prey, but he didn’t bite down on them with his teeth. Holding them in his mouth while moving through the water, he would then turn and spit them into his net before looking for more.

“He’s a lot faster than he used to be,” Nua-Oge said with pride in her voice.

“He’s been learning well,” Theresa nodded, then looked around. “But I don’t think he’s getting the best reputation…”

Spectators loudly shouted the names of other divers—cheering them on as they grabbed wriggling red fish or pulled flags from the shallow seabed—but they were quickly turning their attention to Grimloch.

And some didn’t seem to be too happy with him.

Loud boos rose from pockets of the audience, though they were mixed with rowdy cries of approval as Grimloch bodychecked his way to filling his net.

After the net had grown heavy with his catch, he paused, surveying the competition and the few remaining fish with his black, doll-like eyes.

Then he shot downward like a thunderbolt, aiming for the flags at the bottom. He glided along the shallow seabed like a…well, like a hunting shark searching out prey, then began snatching up flags with his giant hands.

Some were partially buried in sand or nestled in dead reefs, but his enhanced senses picked them out quickly. Soon, other divers took to following him, trying to anticipate where he might have spotted a flag hidden in the depths.

They usually ended up body-checked to the side as he turned, charging through their ranks for fun. His teeth were revealed in a wide, predatory grin and he let out a silent, bubbling laugh, and grabbed a flag poking out of a large reef.

Alex was sure it had a vaguely humanoid shape.

He wondered if that was where Oreca’s body had fallen. Donovan had said that gods died in strange ways.

Eventually, the bell rang a final time: all the flags and red fish had been scooped up and Grimloch burst through the water’s surface.

Splash!

The giant shark man breached the water like a triumphant killer whale before splashing back down. Some cheered him on, while others booed his show of what they judged to be arrogance.

Isolde winced. “That will be embarrassing later, should he happen not to win.”

“Aaaaand in first place by a landslide—or should I say tidal wave of captured prey and flags—we have Grimloooooch!” the announcer cried as the diving bell rang once more.

Standing on the highest podium, Grimloch held up his golden medallion and a massive set of steel armour inlaid with bronze designs and shining pearls: his prizes. The armour apparently had three enchantments laid on it: one that allowed it to be buoyant in the water despite its weight, another that conjured an Orb of Air around the wearer’s head, and a third that could conjure a Shield of Darkwater around itself.

“The armour will have to be magically resized and reshaped to fit you, young fella,” the announcer said to Grimloch. “Do you have anything to say about the contest?”

“Good hunt. Not enough blood for me, though.”

“Hah!” the announcer surprisingly took the gruesome reply in stride. “We have a true warrior here, folks! Roal would be proud!”

Alex, his group—and quite a few audience members—cheered the shark man as he left the podium. There was a bit of a wait before the ship with golden sails returned to shore with the contestants on board. When it docked, Grimloch jumped onto the beach with his medallion in hand. He didn’t wait for the gangplank.

“You did it, little brother!” Nua-Oge cried, hugging her adopted sibling as several members of the audience looked at them in surprise.

“Little brother?” Alex heard someone say quietly.

‘I’ve been there before,’ he thought. ‘I still can hardly believe he’s the younger one.’

He paused, looking at his friends as they all gathered around Grimloch; a crowd of spectators asking him to come visit their shops or residences formed around them too.

Bonds. Bonds to support each other…or call each other out on something, like Amir’s friends had done with Ursula. Bonds like priests had with their deities and followers. Bonds like the Heroes probably had with each other.

He looked at Grimloch patting his sister on the back and shooting fang-filled grins at other contestants who were giving him dirty looks.

Alex laughed: unlike him, Grimloch didn’t seem to care how he was perceived.

Grimloch was just Grimloch.

His attitude didn’t win him many new friends, but he had enough…and from his performance alone, new people still came to him.

That wasn’t the way Alex wanted to live his life, but he respected it. It reminded him of Baelin a bit: monsters just doing what monsters do, and damn those that disagreed.

He thought about Baelin and Ursula’s assertions that deities were parasites. It was ironic in a way; Oreca ruled his seas in a way that put fear and obedience into people, but in the end, he’d needed those people to worship him. Grimloch said whatever he wanted and let people react how they would. Then during the Great Water Hunt, he crushed his competition alone.

Grimloch needed people less than almighty deities did.

He put those thoughts out of his mind and joined his friends, looking at Theresa.

‘Speaking of needing others,’ he thought. ‘We’ll need each other to compete tomorrow morning.’

“Contestants! Welcome to the Great Land Hunt!” the announcer cried, his voice booming—unseen—through the forest.

Alex, Theresa and Brutus waited—with a group of thirty hunters—in the Generasi countryside. They’d woken up early to get ready for the hunt and had strategized about what they’d need to do before making their way to the sky-gondola that had brought them to the meet up area for contestants, then they were taken to one of four starting points.

An illusion materialized above them, one of a white rolok with a beautiful coat. Alex had never seen anything like it before. The illusion was actually showing them the rolok that they’d be chasing.

“Spirit roloks are fast and elusive,” the announcer explained, saying the name of the beast’s species name. “They wield innate illusion magic that allows them to almost disappear when perfectly still! At full speed, they can outrun a horse! You’ll need wits, endurance and cleverness to catch this little beast, so prepare yourselves for a challenging, perhaps long hunt. She’ll be released somewhere in the beautiful Generasi countryside, in the middle of the four starting points. Hunters may hunt alone, as part of your registered team, or come together as a larger group…but remember, there is only one rolok to capture! The two other teams or individual hunters closest to the rolok’s location when she’s captured will be our second and third place winners! Ready yourselves, and remember, harming the rolok is strictly forbidden! A hunting horn will signal the start of the contest, and another will signal the end!”

With a shimmer, the illusion vanished.

“Here we go,” Theresa said. “I am not getting third place this time.”

“We’ll channel our inner Grimloch and grab the gold,” Alex agreed.

Brutus barked three times.

Other hunters glanced at them, then watched the trees, listening for the horn.

Brooooooaaaaawr!

The hunting horn blew a deep, powerful note and the contestants immediately scattered into the trees. Some formed groups, but Alex, Theresa and Brutus moved as a trio.

They had left Claygon with Selina, the Lus and their friends—the big golem would only slow them down or give away their position with his massive footsteps—and with Alex’s training and Theresa’s life-enforcement, they were able to keep up with Brutus, even though he wasn’t running at full speed.

Alex glanced up through the canopy and saw birds of prey circling above.

“It looks like some of the other hunters might be using familiars to hunt with,” he said. “Or maybe they’re just trained birds.”

“That’s okay,” Theresa said. “Brutus has three of the sharpest noses around. We’ll pick up that scent once we get close enough.”

“Where do you think they released it?” Alex asked as they ran through a clearing.

“I don’t know,” the huntress said. “Everyone’s starting off at a disadvantage because we don’t know where the prey is, so the first thing someone needs to do is-”

Brutus suddenly started barking, then veered off to the left.

“-is find our quarry.” Theresa’s lips spread in a predatory grin, which Alex gave back.

“It begins,” she said. “Let’s-”

Brooooooaaaaawr!

The trio skidded to a halt, their boots and padded feet kicking up leaves and dirt. Alex and Theresa’s eyes widened in shock.

“No way,” Theresa said. “No way!”

“What?” Alex cried. “It can’t be!”

He heard commotion all around them as other hunters emerged from the trees with confused looks on their faces.

“Attention hunters!” the announcer’s voice echoed through the wilderness. “The spirit rolok has been captured! The winners of the Great Land Hunt have been decided!”

Alex’s jaw dropped.

They had already lost.

‘Who the hell got that rolok so fast?’