Cuthwin and Horik, his partner on sentry duty, had been designated our personal guard-cum-guides in the port. A few hardy souls remained in their homes and businesses within, but most had fled and camped near the soldiers or had left the area entirely. I didn’t know Kherrash well enough to judge if they were making towards a promise of safety that no longer existed. To my mind, they were just jumping from the frying pan into the fire. In my own world, great migrations of people under threat have happened by land and sea. The refugees on earth didn’t have mountains to contend with that acted as both a shield and a prison to the north, hemming them in to the danger zone. The only ports to embark from within eastern Kherrash were heavily contested, if not enemy territory in their entirety. I felt like we were the proverbial frog, slowly boiling in the horseshoe shaped pot.

“Where are you taking us?” I asked as we passed yet another perfectly reasonable looking establishment.

“The Mermaid, sire… I mean, Mark,” replied Cuthwin.

“What’s so special about The Mermaid?”

“It’s been abandoned. I know you wanted some peace and quiet to think, so I made sure to get the keys from the port master.”

“Does it still have booze? Alcohol I mean?”

“The landlady only took the chef and a few bags with her. The attacks haven’t pressed deep enough for the ogres to empty the cellars.”

“Yet,” I added.

“Yet,” Cuthwin agreed.

I was about to ask what was being done to defend the inner sections within the walls itself when we came across a guard posting. Piles of rock and sand had been formed into barricades between the buildings that gave a clear line of sight for at least a quarter of a mile towards the water. Crossbows and regular bows were stacked neatly under a porch, bolts and arrows by the hundred arranged in neat piles ready to use. The sharpshooters gave us a cursory glance before returning to their watch. News of my arrival hadn’t spread this far at least.

“Will it hold them back?” I asked.

“Not a chance,” replied Sun.

“Miss Sunlith is right,” said Cuthwin, still red and bashful around her. “The idea is that we take down as many as possible and then fall back. With the size and strength of their shields, I doubt the number of kills will be very high.”

“The ones the ogres carry are the size of feast tables,” Horik added, aghast.

“And as thick as my arm,” said Cuthwin. “I’ve seen them take a direct hit from a scorpion and it only just broke through the face of the shield.”

I frowned, knowing I’d heard the term somewhere in the movies. “Scorpion?”

“Floor mounted crossbow, basically. Bolts as long as my arm.”

“Ahh, I know what you mean.” I’d seen a few lining the wall of Pitchhollow. “Do you have much in the way of catapults, ballista, trebuchets?”

“Trebu-whats?” Horik asked.

“Trebuchets. They can throw rocks hundreds of meters without the wear and tear of a catapult.” That gave me some ideas. “I might need to speak to the marshal’s engineers. Could you head back later and see if he has any here?”

“The engineers we have here help to guide the stonemasons in rebuilding the dockside walls. I’ll send a message via the next patrol we see to bring one to the tavern.”

“Thanks. A few of those on the port wall would’ve been a death sentence for the barbarians and ogres. They could’ve smashed through the ships and sunk them.”

“They sound quite devastating,” marvelled Cuthwin. “Do you have them where you’re from?”

“We have all sorts of nasty shit we wish we could uninvent,” I replied.

They didn’t press me any further on my meaning and we walked the last few minutes in silence. The stone lined streets were far cleaner here. Whether that was due to better hygiene habits, or the abundance of seawater to wash the roads down with, I wasn’t sure. The ground certainly had the whitish hue of salt deposits, but that could just as easily come from the normal, damp air that permeated the place.

“Here we are,” said Horik, jangling the keys.

The tavern sign showed a mermaid that was fucking horrifying. I’d been expecting at least half a beauty, preferably the top half, but what greeted me instead was something akin to a finned, silver-scaled bog-witch. Seaweed clung to her scalp, or very well might’ve actually been her hair. The breasts were sagging paps, crusted with barnacles. I caught one look at the things mouth and gave up completely.

“Is that real?” I pointed up at the gently swinging picture.

“I’ve never served on a ship, but supposedly they exist. My cousin’s a fisherman and he swears blind they’ve circled his boat more than once.”

“Are they dangerous?” I asked as the door swung inwards.

“Only if you’re silly enough to dive in for a swim,” Cuthwin confirmed.

The building was similar to every other I’d frequented. Low, smoke darkened beams. A stained bar with bottles lining the shelf and a pair of tapped kegs sitting in a nook. The air hung heavy with the good times had within. I could almost hear the laughter and sea shanties sung over countless mugs. Stains imprinted upon stains on the floor, painting a beautiful picture with their lopsided rings.

The soldiers checked over every inch of the first and ground floors, then the dark cellar. When they were satisfied nothing untoward waited for us, they made for the kitchen.

“If you’d like, I’ll get the fire going and cook up some food?” offered Horik.

My stomach grumbled in reply. “That sounds like a plan, mate. Thank you. Would you mind if myself and Sun had a bit of time to ourselves out here?”

Cuthwin took the hint and joined his partner in the small nook that doubled as the kitchen. I sat before the cold, dark fireplace, feeling a need to light a fire but lacking the motivation. The chimney in my old flat had been sealed off, so it wasn’t like I was used to having them. I think it just went back to the primal comfort provided by the heat and light. That and the fact there were no TVs with twenty-four-seven streaming services in Kherrash. Or electricity. Or plumbing, I reminded myself.

“What has you troubled?” asked Sun.

I turned at the sound of snuffling and found Wargy sitting before her like an obedient puppy. One that was already bigger than Honey by a large margin. “Holy crap, he’s getting big!” I kept my voice low so as to not draw the attention of our escort. “You might want to feed him and quickly put him back away or they’re liable to soil themselves.”

“He needs to stretch his legs and grow used to my scent,” she replied.

Cuthwin walked into the bar, his mouth open. I assumed he was looking to ask for preferences. He saw Wargy, stopped dead in his tracks, and beat a hasty retreat back into the kitchen without saying a word.

“Whatever you do is fine!” I called. “Do you boys want a couple of mugs of ale?”

I heard nervous whispers before Horik answered. “Yes, please. But could you…”

“He’s house trained,” I yelled. “No need to worry.”

“Unless you’re a barbarian or ogre,” Sun muttered, scratching at the big, floppy ear of her pet.

“Yeah, unless that,” I said to her. Fetching a couple of pint mugs, I topped them with warm ale and delivered them to the chefs.

“Does that thing bite?” whispered Horik.

“Where did it come from?” asked Cuthwin. “We searched everywhere.”

“Let’s just say there are things about myself and the lady you won’t understand, ok? If you see something weird, just ignore it as best you can.”

“And no, he doesn’t bite!” shouted Sun from the bar. “Unless you keep looking at me, that is.”

Horik burst out laughing and elbowed his friend in the ribs playfully. I thought Cuthwin couldn’t blush any deeper, but I’ll be damned if he didn’t go all the way through the red spectrum and straight to purple. For a second I thought he was choking on something until he elbowed Horik back and hissed, “Shut up!”

“I’ll leave you to it. And Cuthwin, I’ll see if I can put in a good word for you.”

The poor lad went almost black. Ok, I exaggerate, but he was a far darker hue than before he’d met us. I made my way back to Sun who was talking to the warg pup. He cocked his head, listening intently. I knew wolves, and to a lesser extent domestic dogs, were intelligent creatures, but Wargy looked as if he was actually taking it all in.

“Lie down,” Sun said, and the pup complied. “Stand.” He was on his feet immediately.

“You’re doing well with him. Do you ever use them as mounts, like the goblins?”

“There are some that grow big enough,” she replied. “Others don’t, but they make fine hunters all the same.”

“And Wargy?”

“He’s going to be a big boy when he’s fully mature. I may be able to ride him.” Sun looked at me, her eyes troubled. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure. No secrets, remember?”

“How is it that he is growing so fast? You found him, what, just over a week ago?”

The math checked out. “About that, yeah.”

“And he’s already the size of a three month old warg. A day or two will see him reach adolescence, and then a couple more and he’ll be a full-fledged adult. The growth at the final stages is incredible, and also a part of the reason their faces aren’t all that attractive.”

“I guess the bones have to give way during the process?” I asked.

“It’s quite painful for them. Some don’t make it. I hope…” Sun fell silent at the thought of losing the pup. It was more than a companion to her, it was a connection to her old life and family.

“He’ll be fine. They’ll all be fine. The gods wouldn’t offer him up only to lose him in such a silly way. And as to the why of his growth? I think it comes down to what I am and what the beings that sent me have decided to allow.”

“I’m a little worried that… at the rate he’s aging…”

Of course! She was afraid that the remarkable growth meant a drastically reduced lifespan. I had no idea how to answer, but I remembered the promise banked from my interstellar sponsor. The tavern was currently hued in blue on my minimap.

“Bart?”

I heard a faint thump upstairs, but there was no sign of him in the bar.

“Bart?”

Two gentle knocks carried through the floorboards above.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Sun, jogging up the creaking stairs.

He waited for me in one of the tiny bedrooms.

“Good morning, Mark!” he said.

I shook his hand, genuinely happy to see him. Even though he was a genocidal maniac. “How are you?”

“I’m hanging in there,” he replied. “You know how it is. So much to do and so little time to do it.”

“You’re starting to sound like us,” I replied, grinning.

“I’m trying to better understand how your species can be at once such a marvel and such a fuckup.”

“Bartholomew!” I chided. “Language!”

“Sorry.”

“But to answer your question, we’ve had a lot of practice at being eff-ups.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Better, paladin. How can I help you? I haven’t been offered a pint, so I guess it’s not a social summons.”

I paused, the question I wanted to ask stuck on my lips. “Wait, you want a drink?”

“It was a bit of your human sarcasm. The feeling of being used. I don’t really want a drink, so ask away.”

“I’m going to have to watch you, aren’t I?” I replied. “My question was about the companions. Sun wanted to know if their rapid growth also means their lives are shorter.”

“You realise this counts as the one time deal answer?”

“I know. I’ll try and talk you round to giving me another.”

“Then the answer is no, not in the least. We’ve just drastically reduced the period it takes to reach adulthood so that you’re not waiting for months. The time lost during this phase is gifted to the end of their life.”

His reply completely blindsided me. It was kind of what I’d been expecting, but the way in which he casually discussed messing with the literal aging process knocked me for a loop. They weren’t just capable of eradicating billions of lives on a whim, they had powers that could adapt and extend it too. I had to ask the next logical question from that. “Bart, can you give immortality?”

The old man form stared at me, deep in thought. “Yes and no.”

“Yes and no, what?”

“That’s all I can say. Keep on keeping on, Mark! You’re doing great!”

And with that he was gone. My mind whirled with possibilities until I came to the logical conclusion that it was far above my paygrade. Fathoming the species which had us ensnared would be no easier than the analogy I’d considered before about the ant under the magnifying glass. Yes, it might see the evilly grinning child, but it had no concept of its motives or the meaning of the circular glass. Leaving the empty room, I headed back to Sun with the good news.

“Wargy’s fine. He’ll go on to live a long and rewarding life.”

She didn’t reply, but I saw the answer comforted her nonetheless.

It had been a few hours since I last checked on Ratty and Spidey and I wanted to test something. Watching Wargy carefully, I withdrew my rodent friend and waited. The fearsome pup glanced our way, clocked the other animal, and totally ignored him. Ratty did the same, seemingly only interested in what I could give him. The milk was gone, and he now seemed quite happy to eat any meat available. I hadn’t told Sun, but I’d been dividing the human flesh between the two pets since leaving Pitchhollow. Spidey was getting to the point I was terrified of him. It. Whatever. The arachnid climbed up onto my lap like Honey used to and my entire body quivered in revulsion.

“Don’t do that!” Sun snapped.

“Do what?” I whispered as the spider settled, curling it’s legs under itself.

“Treat it like that,” she replied, scowling. “It can sense your fear. The fact you don’t like it.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” I asked, grimacing.

“Of course not. It’s your pet. What do you have to be afraid of?”

“I mean… just look at it…”

“You probably look just as awful to it, as it does to you. Get over your childish squeamishness or let it go.”

“Jeez, ok, Mom,” I moaned in an awful imitation of a sulky American youth.

“And don’t talk like that or I’ll cut you and Cuthwin both.”

“You’ve got no appreciation for accents,” I replied.

Spidey was contentedly gazing up at me from unblinking, multifaceted eyes. I knew insects had no way of feeling emotions. They were driven by an instinct governed by the needs of the hive or something like that. As I sat staring at the cold, dark eyes of my pet, I thought I felt something more. I slipped a hunk of meat into its waiting fangs and popped him back away.

“Sorry. It’s just… well, they creep me out.”

“What do you think happens when you sleep. Spiders and all manner of insects use your face as a toilet. You’ve probably eaten a hundred and not even known it.”

That thought wasn’t very comforting at all. My stomach, previously hungry, grumbled in protest at her words. But then again, was it that unlikely? The little critters were everywhere. I put it out of my mind and headed back to the stairs. “I’ll be right back. I need to ask something else.”

The room was just as dank and empty as I had left it. The windows were still grained with powdered salt. “Bart?”

“Yes, Mark?”

“What’s the deal with the companions we have? Are they just for cosmetic purposes?”

“Someone hasn’t been checking their loot properly, have they?” he replied, cryptically.

“I don’t follow.”

“Cough!” he barked, holding a hand to his mouth. “Check under your pet tab. Cough!”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I had something in my throat from the air, that’s all. I couldn’t possibly help you any further. Good luck!”

I was left in the empty room, bewildered. The call came up from below that the food was ready, so I shook my head in a daze and headed down to join them.