Another two days passed quickly as we continued to head south. I was initially under the impression that the trip would be a short one, but it seemed that the average walking time from Pehrihnk to Owsahlk was about eight days. Since we were offroading, it was only going to take seven, but that wasn’t much of a gain. There were no further animal attacks, something I was pleased about, but the lack of action left me to my thoughts frequently. Even when sitting around the fire at night and eating I felt disconnected from myself, as though I was watching myself act while being somewhere else. It’s similar to that time my body took over in Suwlahtk, I thought, or, should I just say it’s similar to when I lost my temper?

I found myself focusing greatly on the qualia of my experiences, drifting off into in-depth analyses when it wasn’t appropriate. Is this really what it’s like to be human? I wondered, It doesn’t seem much different than before, besides the lack of control. No, there has to be something else. Even if my mind has been transferred into to a human brain, I still have the heads-up display. This body is modified, somehow, so it’s not really human. It felt like an excuse, but telling myself that I was somehow incorrect calmed my mind down.

“More water coming up,” Zoyvrao’er said, rousing me from my thoughts. Looking at the sky I could see that it was almost noon, and I could feel dirt clinging to my skin. I broke off from the wagon and walked forward, stopping at the small pond to our right and reaching down towards the clean water. I paused and inhaled as my reflection looked back at me.

My left eye now had a large scar running down from my brow to my upper cheek, approximately a centimeter wide and jagged. No hair grew out of my eyebrow where the scar crossed it, but otherwise there was no permanent functional damage. Additionally, the left side of my head had a vertical scar running from the rough center of my temporal bone to the parietal bone, stopping at about the point where the side of my head ended and the top began. I traced my fingers along the scar, and my body, or rather I, felt a pang of mental discomfort.

Why does this bother me? I asked myself, mind in a flurry for answers. It must be because it’s a new defining feature, I concluded, it would make disguises less effective in the future. Not that they worked well before, considering my appearance, but now I’d have more to cover up. Koyl walked up beside me and washed his face off, then looked over in my direction.

“What, worried you’ve ruined your good looks?” he scoffed. I could tell by the lack of emotion in his voice that he had recently taken some of his medication.

“Identifying features are inconvenient,” I replied, reaching down for some water and washing my own face off. “I may have to remove this skin to have it heal properly.” Koyl looked at me curiously, then grabbed some more water and began dumping it over his head.

“You mean cut it all off?” he asked, “Wouldn’t that make it worse? That skin’s just gonna grow back as we’re cutting it, and face skin especially is bad for that. Unless you want to do something like when you had me nail those ivory pieces in for the disguise, but-”

“Why would you want to cut your skin off?” Jhaeaal asked, walking up and kneeling beside Koyl to use the water.

“If skin is completely removed, when it regenerates it only has scarring around the removal site,” I explained. “I found out after I had to remove large sections of my forearm and hand skin to remove a bacter-er, skin disease.” Jhaeaal grunted, then plunged her head into the water.

“You’re not going to catch me doing that anytime soon,” she gasped as she pulled her head back out. For the first time, I noticed just how many scars were on her face.

“We’re approaching the border,” Zoyvrao’er announced. “I don’t need to remind you to keep your mouths shut, but also try not to act stupid.” The setting sun gave just enough light to color the sky a brilliant orange, as well as make looking directly west painful on the eyes.

“Got it boss,” Koyl replied disdainfully. Now that something was actually about to happen, I found myself paying more attention to the caravan and the group dynamic. While all members were still performing well, it was evident in their body language that the guards who were not Koyl and I were growing upset with each other, and that their dispositions toward us had fallen somewhat. Because two of them died, and they blame Koyl and me for that, I thought, in reality, it’s Zoyvrao’er’s fault for not having a backup ranged weapon. Completely negligent.

The trees around us thickened, and it soon became dusk as the sun descended below the horizon. We’re going to keep moving in the dark so that there’s less chance of being spotted, I realized, putting together why everyone was allowed to sleep late into the morning. Insect noises, as well as animal noises, seemed to intensify around us, and Zoyvrao’er lit a small but bright lantern at the front of the wagon to help illuminate the way. The pack beast was clearly disturbed by having to walk during the night but made no protests beyond the occasional chuff or grunt.

This is bad, I thought an hour later. With the sun fully down and darkness now pervading the entire forest, it was almost impossible to see anything besides what was being illuminated by Zoyvrao’er’s lantern. Only flickering glimpses of the stars were visible through the pines above us, and the moon’s glow barely illuminated anything. The moon looks almost the same too, I realized, but I never paid much attention to the specifics of Earth’s moon. I’m sure if I had images of it, I could spot the differences. Distant whooping of monkeys brought everyone to attention and the pack beast to a stop, but when no rocks came after five minutes we began to move again.

A distinctive double snap in the underbrush to our right caused me to stop in place, spooking Koyl and the other female guard with us. That sounded mechanical, I thought, straining my eyes to see if there was anything visible, that was wood clacking against itself, not wood breaking from being stepped on. My instincts yelled at me to create a light and illuminate the area, but I knew that doing so would be a stupid idea because it would give the guards information that might set Steelheart on a path to me. Koyl looked at me, and I made a gesture of pulling a trigger to shoot something. After a few seconds, Koyl realized what I had gestured, ducked down lower, and took a whiff of his medication.

“What?” Zoyvrao’er asked. “Why are you all stoppi-” Another snap sounded out, then a whistling projectile silenced him with a wet-sounding impact. I was towards the back of the caravan, so I couldn’t see where he was hit, but the wet gasping told me he was still alive. Hurriedly, the guards, Koyl, and I took cover behind the wagon.

“Shit,” one of the guards swore quietly, “is he dead?”

“He got hit in the lung,” Koyl whispered, “he’s fine for now, he’s just keeping quiet to not draw more attention.” Zoyvrao’er flopped from his seat at the front of the wagon onto the ground, showing a crossbow bolt sticking out just under his right breast. He glanced at us, then gestured something which I assumed meant he was fine.

“Who’s attacking us?” the guard with the torn breastplate murmured.

“I thought you would know,” Jhaeaal replied, gesturing to Koyl and me. “You’re the ones who are ‘in charge’ of the guards, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea,” Koyl hissed, “and I’m pretty sure Yuwniht has less idea than I do.” I leaned in close to Koyl, then spoke in a volume only he could hear.

“I can illuminate the woods a bit, if we need to,” I told him.

“Don’t,” he whispered back, “we can’t trust these idiots.”

“We can’t die here either,” I whispered, “I might have to do something to keep us alive.”

“What are you two whispering about?” the male guard with intact armor hissed. A bolt flew out of the woods, between the spokes of the wagon’s wheels, and pierced my calf. With an annoyed grunt, I ripped it out of my leg and dropped it on the ground. Footsteps from the woods were getting closer, and I drew my sword. Gesturing to Koyl to listen, he faced his head towards the sound, then looked back to me and nodded.

“They’re approaching,” he whispered to the guards, “get ready to fight.” In the back of my mind, I felt a pang of amusement at the fact that whoever was attacking us had worse tactics than a bunch of monkeys, but I set it aside to keep my focus.

“Come out and you get to live!” a male voice called from the woods. Twenty meters away at most, more likely fifteen, I thought, straining my eyes. My left hand drew one of my throwing knives, and my eyes spotted what looked like a human outline. “We’re taking the cargo, we don’t care about you,” the man said, his voice confirming that I was, in fact, looking at a human in dark clothing. One of the guards opened his mouth to yell back, but Koyl grabbed him and pulled him down to stop him.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Koyl growled. Meanwhile, the man in the woods stepped close enough that the lantern light began to illuminate his body. He was wrapped in dark cloth, with his torso and upper legs covered in fallen evergreen branches. Ghillie suit, I almost laughed, not a very good one, but the same idea. I tossed my sword and knife into the air to swap their hands, then leaned out and launched a knife at the man. I was aiming for his face, but I managed to hit him in the neck.

The man gurgled and fell over, then five rapid snaps sent five more bolts into the side of the wagon, with one striking Koyl’s arm. Koyl winced and tore the bolt out, healing rapidly, then looked out at the man on the ground who was trying to pull the knife from his throat.

“There are six of them, including him,” I told the guards. “I’m going to bait another volley of bolts, then you run out and rush them.” Volume was less of an issue, considering the noise of the man groaning in pain on the ground.

“But we can’t see anything!” Jhaeaal protested.

“Leave that to me,” I said. Koyl shot me a look, but then I reached into the back of the wagon through one of the sheets of cloth and pulled out a bottle of lantern oil. Uncorking it and holding it in my right hand, sword in my left, I swaggered out from behind the wagon with fake confidence. The man had finally dislodged the knife from his throat and was back on his feet, a shortsword of his own in his hand.

“I hope you don’t think you’re getting out of this alive now, foreigner,” he spat.

“So are you just bandits, or what?” I bantered back, deliberately giving the five other humans hiding in the woods time to reload their crossbows.

“You think I’m going to tell you anything?” the man laughed. I strained my eyes to spot the shooters, and managed to make out seven probable locations for them within twenty meters of my current position.

“No,” I laughed back, “I’m just stalling for time.” A set of rhythmic snaps confirmed the five locations of the shooters, and in response I swung the bottle of lantern oil in a wide arc while superheating the air and glass at its exit with magic. Flaming oil flew out, spattering the man as well as the trees and underbrush, illuminating the scene as everything quickly caught fire. The pack beast behind me roared and began rushing away from the flames, and the man once again fell to the ground, this time screaming instead of moaning.

“Seytoydh ngaazmayjh!” another man yelled from in the woods, and I flinched backward while pulling the wide blade of my sword up beside my head for cover. Three bolts struck my right side ribs, slowed greatly by the gambeson, one clanked off my sword, and one went wide, sticking into the pack beast’s flank and making it roar again. Using force magic, I pushed out the three bolts in my torso and let them clatter to the ground, then turned to the now very visible man who had yelled at me.

“Less effective than a group of monkeys,” I scoffed, then I whipped the half-full bottle of oil at the man, splattering him with the contents as the glass smashed on his chest. He had just enough time to register surprise and fear before his entire form exploded into flames and screams.