Super Supportive

Alden was glad he’d been alone through it. Some things weren’t meant to be shared.

After it was over, it still wasn’t over. But eventually, in addition to the writhing agony of his battered authority as it tried to claw its way out of its new affixation, he became aware of the world around him.

He was in a forest, lying on the ground beneath trees whose massive trunks towered above him like skyscrapers. Their bark was a brown so dark it was nearly black, and their size reminded Alden of redwoods, though he’d never seen one in person.

Normally this place must have been in shadow, but right now the sun was directly overhead. It pierced through distant branches to shine right in Alden’s eyes. He tried to lift an arm to shade his face and realized that he couldn’t. He was being held down.

By tree roots.

That gave him an idea about where he was.

“Okay,” he said, in a voice raw from screaming. “If you’re not going to pull me under, can you let me go?”

The roots weren’t tight. He thought they’d been trying to help by keeping him from thrashing around. But he had seen them eat bodies recently, so he didn’t feel comfortable with this situation.

They began to loosen. Rather slowly. Apparently even magic trees didn’t move fast.

While he waited, he turned his head from side to side to take in the forest. There was no end to it that he could see. And it was very still. It wasn’t the unsettling quiet of Moon Thegund but something more tranquil. The weather was pleasant, too. Warm but not hot.

It would be a nice day if a certain part of me would stop trying to rip itself to shreds.

He understood what she’d meant now, when she said he wouldn’t want to use the skill for a while. If someone appeared from around a tree and threw a knife at Alden, he’d take it in the gut instead of trying to activate Let Me Take Your Luggage.

The Bearer of All Burdens, he corrected himself. Similar names. Very different scope and connotations. At least it has some gravitas.

When he could, he sat up. To his own surprise he felt all right, so he stood.

Better than all right. Amazing. He walked around, stretching out his limbs and testing his muscles. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Rrorro had healed him and then some. And even if the points he’d dropped into his physicality weren’t huge, they didn’t have to be for him to notice that he felt better than ever.

Which was incongruous, since he also felt worse.

Maybe Artonans developed two streams of consciousness so that they could process their authority sense separately from the others. It’s kind of confusing.

But his human brain was managing it without exploding. So that was something.

He was so involved with his own suffering and his physical experimentation that it took him a while to notice the total lack of interference or instruction from the System. He was wandering around on Artona I with no summoner, no destination, and no purpose. That was an unusual state of affairs.

He thought his interface should be bothering him with tasks or timers. Something like an incoming teleportation notification or instructions to report to whomever was in charge of stray humans in this area. But it seemed to be leaving him to make his own decisions for now.

That was obliging of it. Alden needed some space anyway.

This is the first time in almost seven months that I haven’t been busy, in mortal danger, or both.

He realized that he didn’t even know who he was supposed to be right now.

Not the Alden who’d tried to be mature and brave and unbreakable every second to keep himself and Kibby alive. That guy had been at the end of his rope for weeks, anyway. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer.

But he also wasn’t the Alden who’d left Earth behind for his first Rabbit assignment. He could remember all of that person’s anxieties, plans, and dreams. He knew that they had been his, but they felt distant.

Not bad. Not even childish. Just…distant.

If someone assigned him an elementary school essay right now—one of those “When I Grow Up I Want to Be” ones—he’d have no clue what to write.

My “What I Did Over Summer Break” essay would be badass, though.

He took a walk. The large, blade-shaped fallen leaves were soft to his feet. He sprinted for a while. He did some push-ups. Everything really was in working order.

Finally, he accepted the fact that things actually were going to move forward at his own pace for a change, and he sat down on top of a root the height and width of a park bench to think. He stroked the auriad around his neck and tried to figure out next steps.

He gave the mental command to activate the location feature on his interface and winced as it sent a sharp needleprick through a minuscule part of his bound authority he’d never identified before. So even this much is going to sting.

It was like he was a giant exposed nerve right now.

A map appeared, and he gladly let it distract him. He was very far to the north on Artona I’s biggest continent, in the largest of a few different places on the planet marked Privately Governed Territory.

If Alden’s memory wasn’t failing him, then in culture class back at the consulate, Instructor Pa-weeq had said those were for “special communities dedicated to land preservation.” Which had made him think of them as environmentally important parks or something.

Unlike the maps he’d seen in class, though, this one was willing to enlighten him further.

Privately Governed Territory - Knight Rapport 1

“I don’t suppose I can get alternate translations for ‘Knight Rapport,’ can I?” he asked aloud. He knew what the words meant literally, but he didn’t quite understand what they were describing here.

To his surprise a small list appeared:

[Valorous Servants Community]

[Neighborhood of Honored Warriors]

[Resting Place of the Oathbound]

[Sanctum of The Ones Who Stand Guard]

Okay, so it’s trying to fit a lot of nuance into a few words. The “knight” concept must have been difficult to translate. Maybe that was why he had never been able to get Kibby’s description of what the Primary was down well.

Anyway, this seemed to be a forest belonging to the knights. If Alden’s sense of scale wasn’t completely off, it looked like it was almost the size of Illinois.

He was right in the middle of it, and there were no symbols to indicate cities or landmarks.

“Where are the nearest people?” he asked.

Not very close, he assumed. They would have heard him screaming.

A direction arrow appeared. Beneath it were the words “Art’h Residence - 5.68 miles.”

Alden wondered if Knight Alis-art’h had deliberately teleported him to her family’s house in the middle of what was clearly an exclusive location. Or if it was another entity’s idea. He was guessing it was the second.

“What are my options for getting back to Earth?”

The answer wasn’t what he’d expected. He had multiple choices. Including a couple of non-standard ones.

[Request Direct Teleport to Anesidora]

*Intensity Level 8

[Request Direct Teleport to Alternate Earth Destination]

*Intensity Level 10-17

[Walk to Art’h Residence and Request Use of Summonarium]

*Intensity Level 4

*Reward: A Gift from Mother

An optional quest of sorts. From her. That was…Alden didn’t know what it was. But he thought the Intensity Level warnings were letting him know that even teleporting in his present state wasn’t going to feel great.

“What kind of reward?” he asked.

The Wardrobe window opened.

In the mindspace where he’d made his affixation selections, Alden had noticed the Wardrobe had gotten an expansion. But she’d told him not to look at it then, that it was something to keep him busy during his recovery.

There were two more tabs in addition to the main window now. One was labeled For Alden and the other said Intensity 99.9.

I didn’t anticipate something like this. He’d assumed that her involvement with him was only a favor to Alis-art’h and it wouldn’t really extend to after affixation. Would the new tabs disappear when he went back to Earth, or were they here to stay?

He selected the one with his name on it. There were only two items. They showed up as presents with Christmas wrapping paper. The description on the first simply said, “A Gift.” The second was, “Reward: A Gift With Strings Attached.”

It made him smile. “I definitely want a gift.”

He had no clue what it would be, but he felt certain that he would like it or need it. She had, after all, just been inside his head.

A moment after he’d spoken, something was teleported onto the tree root beside him. It was a messenger bag, about the same size as the one he’d had back home, but this one was made of a dark blue fabric that matched the auriad, minus the iridescent quality. He picked it up curiously. The fabric was soft, and it had a round silver medallion attached to the clasp that sparkled faintly when his hand approached it.

Some kind of a lock? Or id device? he guessed.

The bag felt empty. He was about to open it anyway, when a second item teleported in. It was a book. A very old looking book with a gray leather cover and a raised design of hands using an auriad on the front. Alden stared at the logograms running in a vertical line down the center beneath the star-shaped pattern that had been made with the string.

He couldn’t read them, but he knew a magic book when he saw one. And if he could find a dictionary that included logograms for wizard-related words somehow—

[Whan-tel’s Art:

Conducting Power through the Hands]

“You’re going to translate it for me!” Alden said excitedly.

And then he realized something slightly different than the usual System translation was going on. First, he got the easy-to-read English. Then it faded, and a phonetic spelling of the Artonan words along with their literal definitions appeared beside each symbol.

Then that faded out, too, and he was left staring at just the untranslated logograms again.

Intrigued, he watched for a while. Every half a minute or so, one of the logograms would be re-translated and then fade out.

It’s not only translation, he realized. It’s flash cards.

It would force him to learn vocabulary and the writing system while he studied the book. And it would definitely keep him busy with something practical while he was in a state where he’d rather be knifed than actually use his skill.

Just as he finished appreciating the first book, a second one appeared. It looked equally antique. Where is she getting these? They don’t look like they’re fresh from a shop. Is she just snatching them off of peoples’ desks?

The new book was less exciting but still useful. It was an index that listed common object enchantments and their effects. It didn’t include instructions for how to enchant things, just references to other texts that did. Alden assumed it was to help him out when he started picking up his new category of burden with his skill, so that he might have a little more of an idea which enchantments he might be grabbing from objects.

That’s really going to be kind of cool. I could even buy stuff from the Wardrobe if I have to for experimentation purposes. It stood to reason that the stat bonuses on Rabbit gear were actually some kind of enchantment since they weren’t drawing directly on the user’s authority. He’d have noticed that kind of thing when he wore the now-deceased lab coat.

Although that would be really expensive. What is an enchantment anyway?

When no more surprises appeared, Alden opened up his new bag.

And promptly screeched when the thing that was probably some kind of id medallion jabbed at his sore authority. After he’d recovered from the shock, he stuck the books inside.

[Sorry.]

“It’s all right,” Alden replied. “I bet that would have been no big deal under normal circumstances. Thank you for the books.”

He re-opened the Wardrobe and glanced at Reward: Gift with Strings Attached briefly before he checked the Intensity 99.9 tab.

He stared at the contents of it unhappily. “You said it was a good idea for me to keep quiet and stay under the radar. That’s what I want to do. This looks like…a closet that will give me a lot of angry Artonans, danger, and unnecessary drama.”

[True. These are expensive. But you have to admit they look stylish.]

They were knight uniforms.

They included descriptions, but since they listed the magical effects by name instead of anything as simple as stats, Alden wasn’t sure what the benefits were. Knowing Artonans, though, a piece of armor that gave you something called the Halo of the Mother Planet was going to be absurdly powerful.

Notes out to the side said these pieces were only available on the Triplanets and a few other worlds. Earth was not included.

And as far as argold went, they were all completely free of charge.

Alden wasn’t surprised. He’d known she hadn’t been talking about money when she said they’d be expensive.

“Do you seriously expect me to take one home with me? It seems like that’ll be a hard thing to explain to the actual knights if they ever find out.”

[No. You should not. A record is created when one of these is taken. But I wanted you to know that I would let you. Consider it a vote of confidence.]

He left them alone.

Then, he shifted over to the other new tab with a thought.

“So…what’s the string attached to the reward gift?”

[Only the one you’ve already seen—socialization. If you want it, then when you’re ready to leave, go say hello and ask to use the summonarium.]

It wasn’t like that was a hard request. “But what are they going to think when I show up?”

[Not that you are what you are. They will assume, correctly, that you were re-routed here so that they would be on hand to execute you if you turned into a chaos-generating monster during your repair session.]

“Is that a thing that happens?” Alden asked. “Earth mentioned having to take extra precautions to prevent ‘abominations,’ too. What the heck?”

[It almost never happens these days. Because everyone is careful about it.]

“That’s good. I suppose. What’s in the present?”

[It’s a surprise. One far too extravagant to give you for free no matter how charming you are. Help from me doesn’t work like that.]

“I get it,” Alden said. “I know you’re not a genie. Thank you. After I’ve thought about it a little more, maybe.”

There was a pause.

[Stu-art’h is home from college for his weekly study days.]

Ah. He got in. And got started. Months passing changes a lot. “Did you want me to say hey to him specifically, or…?”

[Talk to whomever you like.]

Alden nodded.

[But he was upset you died. And you have seen the worst moment of his life. And you’re carrying around a piece of his foot.]

***********

Alden spent a lot more time after that sorting out how he wanted to handle the return to Earth. He tried to consider his options—all of them, not just the obvious ones. Because once he left this forest behind, he wasn’t going to get many chances to undo whatever choices he made.

He could really go anywhere on Earth he wanted. That was a rare opportunity, and the System wouldn’t rat him out. He could drop himself in Hawaii. He was already dressed for it after all. And he didn’t know how much money it took to go on the run for a lifetime, but he was betting it was less than he had.

He had the same amount of argold he had been in possession of before he left. Plus full payment for his work at LeafSong. Plus a pending amount that was large enough to earn the attention of even the part of his mind that couldn’t stop focusing on the abused state of his authority. Alden wondered whose pocket it was coming out of. The Triplanetary government’s? The university’s? Joe’s?

It didn’t say who it was from. Only what it was for—service in a corruption field unsuited to his rank, accidental deprivation of his rights due to loss of Contract oversight, and exceptional acts of bravery unrelated to an official summons.

Unless the currency exchange rate was very different than it had been when he’d left home, Alden now had more than twelve million dollars.

That’s too much. What does a person even do with that much money?

Although…if someone told him he had to give it all back or else return to Moon Thegund for another half year, he would gladly hand over every dime. So maybe it wasn’t that much.

On top of that, the [PRIVILEGES] button was pulsing on the interface’s main menu. When he selected it, he saw a few new things. One was a decorative design that had been awarded in addition to the extra pay for the “exceptional acts of bravery.” From now on, it could be embroidered on the shoulder of clothes he purchased from the Wardrobe if he wanted.

Like a medal, I suppose?

It had been issued by Alis-art’h several hours ago, so she must have known by now that he’d made it safely through the strange teleportation process and his second affixation.

It didn’t have any attached benefits Alden could see. But the embroidery patterns on their outfits obviously meant something to wizards. Maybe it was just a mark that indicated people ought to be nice to him, since he was an extra awesome Rabbit.

He was also now an Authorized Witness for certain kinds of System-related actions and legal contracts. It was more of a convenience than a power. It would remove a hoop to jump through for things like the class trading process.

Finally, he had a privilege listed that was only a single word. No description of what it was or how he’d obtained it.

Not that he needed one.

It just said, “MOTHER.”

With his mind, he flicked through the interface, examining everything else.

Money. Stats. Privileges. Skill.

He even had an Anesidoran ID now, issued a few days after he must have officially gone missing. He didn’t know if it was standard protocol to give newly-minted Avowed who vanished on their first assignment the benefit of the doubt about their intent to register, or if someone had pulled strings.

It can’t be something that happens often.

Alden had never heard of it happening to anyone else.

I guess my last known location was the consulate, too. So Boe and Jeremy could’ve told people I was there to register when I got called, and it would have looked pretty legit.

He had a form letter in his inbox welcoming him to the island and instructing him on what procedures he’d have to go through when he arrived. He also had a System notification that he had thousands of text, voice, and video messages in storage on Earth. They could all be transferred over in one packet for just the standard connection fee, so he paid it.

And immediately regretted it.

His inbox turned into an emotional minefield. Connie, crying, had called him twelve times a day at first, then gradually fewer and fewer, and then the System had apparently switched him from Missing to Presumed Dead at one point, and the calls had peaked in number. Then tapered off again.

Three weeks ago, for some reason, she’d sent him a photo of Wummy sitting on top of her dresser in her bedroom. The text below the smiling wombat said, “Don’t worry. Jeremy and I didn’t put him in the attic with the rest of it.”

That was her last message.

Alden had to take a few deep breaths. And then a few dozen more.

The other messages weren’t quite as emotional but they were still overwhelming. Jeremy seemed to have been using what he assumed was the ghost of Alden as a diary for a couple of months now. The entries were getting way too personal to share with someone who was only presumed dead.

Boe had initially sent five messages. Each twenty-four hours apart right after Alden went missing. The fifth one said, “Yeah. You’re probably not ever going to read these, and sending them is making me feel like shit. I hope I’m wrong and I get to see you when you come back.”

A sixth and final one had appeared a couple of months later, though: “They had a thing for you at school today. You would have loathed it. Connie’s fine. Jeremy is, too. So’s the cat. Gorgon is very alien, the same as always.”

The thing at school had been a large public memorial service. Which was definitely not what he would have wanted for himself if anyone had ever asked him.

They’d had one at his middle school for two girls who’d died in a car accident, and the event had been disturbing. Alden had hated the way so many kids, and even a few of the teachers, suddenly became posthumous best friends with the dead girls even though they’d barely spoken to them in reality. The number of fake criers had exceeded the actual mourners.

Apparently, when you died as an Avowed at fifteen, it was even worse.

Alden had messages from classmates whose names he didn’t know. More than a few of the videos had obviously been recorded not for Alden, but for posting on social media. They were incredibly insincere. A couple of them referred to entirely made-up events he had supposedly shared with the creators. It made him wonder what percentage of people were hiding the fact that they lacked a normal human conscience.

He did worry about the messages from people who seemed to really be upset about his death even though he barely knew them. Apparently he’d complimented one of the school lunch ladies more often than any other student, and she was devastated he was gone.

Some people had no hearts. Others had big ones.

Alden felt like someone had just dumped an entire wheelbarrow full of life on top of his head. It was foreign, and he didn’t have any idea what to do with it.

Aunt Connie probably liked the giant messy funeral at least.

She was a fan of overdoing things like that to begin with, and though she had a bullshit detector, she preferred not to employ it. Alden was sure she knew better, but she enjoyed living in her own version of the world. It was one where handsome men were never scumbags, charities couldn’t be sketchy, and it was illegal for reality tv to be fake.

Alden had the System hide all of the messages away to be sorted through some other time. When it would be less confusing.

If I went on the run in Hawaii, Aunt Connie and my friends would have to keep my existence a secret. It wasn’t like he was going to let them go on thinking he was dead. Sounds hard for them. And pretty nerve-wracking for me. How do you even exchange argold for dollars if you’re in hiding, anyway?

He glanced at the Anesidora ID.

Island it is.

There had never really been a better choice. And back when he was more sure of who he was, Alden had been looking forward to being a proper, Anesidoran Avowed. So despite weird circumstances and less certainty, the plan is pretty much the same.

Get into a good school, learn to use my powers, gain some survival know-how, get stronger so that if something like this ever happens to me again I’m not so helpless…figure the rest out from there when I’m not so burned out.

“Great,” he said to the woods. “So, now I just have to get myself to the right planet in the right way and get started.”

He was very tempted to just show up in the Chicago consulate.

Pros: he could talk to Gorgon and make sure the alien was okay after the Rite.

Cons: He and Gorgon didn’t actually have much to say to each other that could be said. It would just be a social visit. Probably a brief one. Because even if Alden pretended like he’d just been sent there because it was the location he’d originally been summoned from, he couldn’t very well act like he was ignorant of where he was supposed to be when they’d given him a new ID and a welcome letter.

If he openly wandered around Chicago for a while and visited home, he might get a pass for being a teenager coming out of a bad situation. Or he might be banned from legally returning to the U.S. for family business and hero work.

Not worth it.

He made a decision. And shortly after it, his first phone call in a long time.

A few seconds later, a woman appeared. She was wearing a flawlessly tailored dark green suit jacket with a rainbow-colored pin on the lapel that said “Toronto,” and she was standing between someone in long, glittery white sleeves and another person in gray camo. Alden couldn’t see their faces, just their arms thrown over her shoulders. Over her head in the background, two curved, glass buildings rose against a cloudless blue sky.

Lights flashed. Someone said, “Smile, everyone!”

The woman did not smile. Instead, she stared at Alden with her mouth hanging open slightly.

He blinked, trying to process the scene. Then he exclaimed, “Ms. Zhao, you didn’t have to answer right in the middle of a photoshoot for your job!”

Cly Zhao shook her head and ducked out from under her teammates’ arms. “Kid, you’re alive! Oh my god!”

“I can wait and call back in a few minutes—”

“Are you crazy!? Where are you? Are you hurt? What happened?!”

Alden saw the other heroes on the Toronto team asking her questions, and she waved them off with both arms.

“I’m fine,” Alden said hastily. “I’m not hurt. I just got stuck on a moon without a System for a while. There’s nothing that urgent. We really can talk lat—”

“I’m not going to hang up on a dead person to have my picture taken!” She was run-walking away from the group of superhumans.

Alden was a little embarrassed. He’d only wanted to ask her a quick question.

“Uh…thanks,” he said. “I’m going to be coming back to Earth. To Anesidora. Probably in a few hours. I’m about to call my aunt and let her know I’m okay, but since I know she’s going to be…pretty shocked…I wanted to be able to tell her when we’d get to see each other in person.”

“You haven’t even called Connie yet?!”

“You know my aunt’s first name?”

“I know your blood type and where all your birthmarks are. She seemed to think that might help me locate you. In outer space. After you got eaten by a teleport cycle.”

“Ohhhh.” Alden winced. “I’m so sorry. You and I don’t even really know each other, and I’m sure she probably drove you—”

“It’s fine. Trust me. What do you need?” She’d stopped walking in front of a large water feature.

“I wanted to tell Connie exactly when we could see each other face to face. I was hoping I could get her a teleportation pass to the island. But I don’t know how to do that.”

There was no option for it on his interface.

“That’s all? That’s easy. She’s your immediate family. It’s basically just paperwork on the island’s end of things that hasn’t been done. Because you haven’t been living there. If you tell me exactly when you’ll be arriving, I can make sure your aunt is waiting for you.”

“It doesn’t have to be…I’d rather it not be right away like that,” Alden said. He needed more of a chance to get his head on straight. “When I see her in person, I’d like to be clean and wearing normal clothes and being more normal than I feel right now. Is tomorrow okay?”

“Of course.” She examined him. “You’re wearing a very dirty tropical shirt. And you said you got stuck on a moon. With no System? Where are you again?”

“I’m also barefoot and in wizard pants that don’t fit. Artona I. It’s a long story. I’m really totally fine.”

“Either you’re lying, or your definition of fine has gone way off-kilter. Doesn’t matter which right now. Just get yourself back home. Don’t worry about your aunt. I’ll make some calls right this second, and she’ll be easy for you to teleport in when you’re ready. And I’ll look into your friends. They called me, too. That might take a while longer to arrange…but anyway, I’ll put some money in your account so that you can pay for them—”

“No!” Alden almost shouted. “I don’t need money!”

She looked startled.

“They paid me for my time on the moon,” he said. “They paid me a lot.”

Her face split into a wide grin. “Oh yeah? And, I hear you’re a Rabbit. Congrats on the rare class.”

Right. She would know.

“What does a Rabbit even get for being stuck on the Triplanets for more than half a year?”

“I have twelve million dollars now.”

She coughed. “I wasn’t serious! You know you don’t have to answer rude questions like that!?”

“But I’ve never had twelve million dollars before. It’s really strange. I feel like I should tell people.”

Cly laughed. “Re-think that one. At least as far as just announcing it out loud. Buy yourself a mansion or something and let them guess.”

“Okay.”

“You can pay for your own teleports, though.”

“I can,” Alden agreed.

“Put me on your priority contacts list. If I know someone’s blood type, I should be able to phone them whenever I want.”

“That sounds fair.”

When the call ended, he realized he was smiling. He had just talked to a human. His first in ages. It was nice.

The talk that followed with Aunt Connie lasted a lot longer. And it involved a surprising amount of shouting from her about how he was living dangerously, which was out of character, and a lot of apologizing for being a terrible aunt, which was also out of character. And unnecessary.

“You never had to be a perfect aunt,” Alden said for the third time while Connie sat on the curb outside a strip mall and wiped her nose on her tanktop. “You’re my aunt. And I love you. And I’m sorry I asked my friends to lie to you. I was going to tell you I was an Avowed at some point when I got back home.”

“But you didn’t tell me, and you d-didn’t c-come back home!” she bawled.

His heart clenched. He couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“Do you mind teleporting to Anesidora tomorrow? I…really want to hug you. For an awkwardly long time.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think you understand. Awkwardly long. Like a couple of days at least. You should take off work.”

She blew her nose on the tanktop.

***************

After the call with his aunt, Alden didn’t think he had another long heart-to-heart in him. So he texted Boe and Jeremy, letting them know he was alive and that he’d get in touch soon.

Then he brushed himself off as best he could and thanked the tree that he had been using as a seat all this time. It dropped a bright green leaf onto his head with accuracy that could have been coincidental but probably wasn’t.

He tucked the leaf into his new magic bag with his new magic books, then went for a walk, following the guiding arrow the System had provided.

Sunset was approaching, and the forest was much darker now. But there was no undergrowth, so it wasn’t hard to navigate. Alden considered buying something from the Wardrobe, or having the cargo pant/hiking boot set he’d purchased on his first day as a Rabbit teleported in from Earth.

But why spend a bunch of his new money to get himself ugly alien clothes when he didn’t really want or need them at the moment?

He was going to buy himself good old-fashioned human shoes when he got home. And as many other good old-fashioned human things as he could think of uses for.

I want a normal toothbrush. And some jeans.

He was a little trepidatious as the miles ticked down and he approached his destination. He expected to be stopped by guards of some kind. The art’hs were about as important as people on the Triplanets could be as far as he could tell, and important people were supposed to have guards weren’t they? Or at least magic walls.

Regular walls even.

But Alden had already passed by the first evidence that he’d entered an occupied area before even he realized it. It was a low building, about the size of the small house he’d shared with his aunt. It had mirrored sides that perfectly reflected the forest around it and a flat roof covered in fallen leaves.

The structure was so well camouflaged that it took a few seconds to make out the whole shape of it even when he knew what he was looking at. It was pentagonal, and it had a pair of dark wooden chairs in what Alden assumed was the front.

That can’t be the whole house, can it?

Alden approached, wondering how to figure out where one knocked on a mirrored building. He tried not to feel spooked by the fact that the mirrors showed everything around them but him.

While he was squinting at the place, struggling to find something that looked like a door, a panel beside him suddenly slid aside, and three kids around Kibby’s age stood there peeking out at him.

They were all wearing loose-fitting clothes, and behind them was an open space that looked like it could have been meant for anything from meditation to dancing to martial arts. There was something inside making a hollow tocking sound with perfect rhythm, like a metronome.

“I told you it was human,” one of them whispered to the other two.

“Don’t call her ‘it,’” hissed another. “The Instructors say humans think that is rude.”

Her? Nobody’s ever made that particular mistake before.

They didn’t seem surprised or worried to see him. Just curious.

“Hi,” he said in Artonan. “I’m looking for Stu-art’h?”

“He’s probably at the main house,” said one, pointing in the direction Alden had been heading.

“He could be anywhere else though,” another said.

“But he’s probably at the main house.”

“Thank you,” said Alden. “Sorry I interrupted your…thing you were doing.”

He headed in the direction they’d pointed, noting several more of the small camouflaged buildings and a couple of larger ones. He passed half a dozen Artonans. A couple were in wizard’s clothes, but most wore the knight’s uniform. They all looked at him curiously, but nobody seemed concerned about his presence.

I’m an Avowed, Alden realized. They think there’s no way for me to be here unless I was summoned.

Also, this place was on a ginormous piece of privately governed land. He doubted they got many uninvited guests.

I feel like a spy in the castle.

It was kind of fun.

Finally, he came to a place so large that it had to be the ‘main house.’ There were well-trodden paths leading to and from it at different angles, and the home had been built around several of the giant trees. It was at least three stories tall by his estimate.

He followed the path that looked the most frequently used and stood waiting for someone to open a door for him. The kids had known he was around. He’d be noticed eventually. Better to be patient, instead of banging on walls that might, for all he knew, be one-way windows into the Primary’s own bathroom.

A door did finally open, just a few inches from where Alden had guessed it would be. The mirrored surface faded to reveal smooth wood, which slid aside. Alden took a step back in surprise as a person of a type he’d never seen in real life loomed over him.

That is a giant, four-armed…mole, he thought.

He’d seen pictures of them before in a xenobiology book. He knew they were called the Mleirt, and also that there were basically none of them. They had a population of just under twenty thousand. Alden hadn’t even realized they had Avowed, but this one was wearing a pair of wide fabric belts diagonally across its body, and they had embroidered designs on them reminiscent of the one Alden had just earned under his privileges tab.

The Mleirt had glossy bronze fur, no visible ears, and a snout with pinkish tentacle-whiskers.

<> the alien asked. According to the System, anyway. The snout tentacles waved but there was no sound that Alden could detect.

“I’ve never been here before,” he admitted, staring up at the Mleirt’s chin. “I’m looking for Stu-art’h?”

<>

Interesting. They did three meals. Culture class and Kibby had taught Alden that two was more normal. First meal was usually either breakfast or lunch, depending on the eater’s preference. And then there was an evening one.

On the other hand, Joe had just scarfed things out of his own pockets whenever it suited him.

To each their own.

“I can take Stu-art’h’s dinner with me?” Alden offered, thinking it would be a good way to get directions without having to wander the whole massive place.

<>

“I brushed off, but I am covered in dirt. Sorry. That’s—”

<>

“I’m not staying long. Just here for a quick…thing.”

<>

“Murmur,” Alden repeated. “I’m Alden.”

He followed the Mleirt into a house that somehow managed to be cozy and inviting despite its size. Alden took in everything with interest. It was the opposite of an open floor plan. Rooms connected to other rooms which connected to hallways lined with seating nooks and bookcases.

I’m so going to get lost.

And there were really a lot of people in residence. Wizards and knights everywhere—chatting in nooks or seated around tables in rooms with soft lighting and music. There were quite a few kids running around, too. And a baby was crying somewhere.

Somehow, despite the small rooms and the busyness, the house still clearly belonged to very rich people. It wasn’t like there were tons of conspicuous jewels or gilded furniture. It was just that every spot Alden’s eyes landed on was somehow too appealing.

Armchairs snugged up against a fire pit made him long to sit down. The rugs were so plush he wanted to rub his face on them. In some spaces, candlelight—and who even used candles as a serious light source these days?—reflected off of polished floors and wall panels mesmerizingly. And in other locations, windows were beginning to glow softly to replace the sun as twilight fell. Even the curtains seemed to be drawn exactly right in every single room.

Alden had never paid attention to something like curtains before. And he felt way too welcome and relaxed for a spy.

They must have someone with Tailor Environment come in monthly to tweak this place. There’s no way it’s this absurdly delightful through happenstance.

Alden definitely didn’t fit in. He drew startled looks in every space they passed through. But nobody ever said, “Hey? Who is this guy?”

It must be the number of people living together. They see something odd, and they all just assume another member of the household is responsible for it.

Plus, he was following Murmur around.

On what was turning out to be a very roundabout mission to get to the kitchen and fetch Stu-art’h’s supper. There was no way this was the fastest route, but the Mleirt seemed to have a curious sort of purpose in wandering the entire ground floor of the building like this. It was like the point of it was to stop by in every single room.

Alden thought Murmur was the housekeeper. Maybe even the person who was making the environment so nice. They did stop to tidy scattered toys and discarded dishes on a couple of occasions. But the big alien also paused their trip through the house to grab a full-grown wizard out of a chair he’d been napping in and hold him still while sniffing him thoroughly. And the guy just submitted to the treatment with a sigh.

The wizard gave Alden a look as if to say, “Do you see what is happening to me?”

And Alden really wondered what expression he wore on his own face, because he had no clue what was going on.

Murmur set the fellow down, patted him on the back with all four of his clawed hands, and then they resumed their trip as if nothing had happened.

So a housekeeper that grabs people and sniffs them regularly enough for it to be no big deal?

Why not?

They finally made it to a formal dining room—the one truly large space in the house so far—and through there, they passed into an ultra-modern kitchen that didn’t fit in with the rest of the place at all. Here, Alden finally saw adult Artonans not in wizard or knight clothes. A man was cleaning dishes, a woman appeared to be cataloging the contents of a freezer, and a couple of people were assembling to-go containers that looked like smaller versions of the high-tech takeout tiffins Alden had encountered before.

One of them checked a tablet and gave Alden a container to take up to Stu-art’h. And then, since they assumed he was a helpful volunteer, they gave him five more to deliver to other people on the same floor.

How did I end up as room service? he wondered as he climbed the stairs Murmur had pointed out to him. Is this just the fate of Rabbits? I don’t even work here.

He’d explained that he didn’t know where any of the rooms were upstairs, and they just gave him door numbers to remember.

As he emerged from the stairs into the hall, he took in the environment. Very different from the ground floor. It was a long hallway lined with widely-spaced doors. Up ahead, it made a sudden split to go around the tree trunk that was visible through floor-to-ceiling windows.

Alden counted four doors, smacked his hip into the access panel to get the resident’s attention since he didn’t have a free hand to knock, and a moment later, a woman in a long gown that he assumed was pajamas took her food from him with only a briefly confused look on her face.

These people need to be more suspicious, Alden thought. They are the protectors of the universe apparently, and I could just poison them all.

Door number seven, just before he got to the tree, belonged to a familiar face. Rel-art’h, the instructor in charge of the class at the…ceremony…Alden had seen. He was wearing the same knight’s uniform, and his black hair was pulled back at the temples with the same small jeweled clips.

Alden froze.

Rel-art’h seemed confused to see him, and unlike everyone else in the house, he was a little less inclined to brush it aside.

“Who are you?” he asked, taking the food in one hand and setting it on a small table by the door. Behind him, Alden could see a seating area, and there were three different screens on the wall covered in logograms.

“I’m Alden,” Alden said. He’d already decided not to lie about stupid stuff. If someone ever got around to caring enough to ask him why he was looking for Stuart, he’d just tell them it was because he wanted to go home.

Rel-art’h frowned at his answer. Alden braced for further questions, but instead, the man just said, “Like the ryeh-b’t?”

What? Alden blinked. He was positive his reputation shouldn’t have proceeded him because as far as he knew, he did not have a reputation. Unless it was as that guy the Primary met once who’d died almost immediately afterwards.

“Yes?” he said.

“It must be a common name for humans…” Rel-art’h muttered.

Then he closed the door in Alden’s face.

It could have been a coincidence, but as Alden traveled down the hall, the residents seemed to get younger. And more stressed out. He delivered one of the meals to a room shared by a pair of seemingly identical twin girls—really rare on the Triplanets despite the high rate of fraternal twins compared to Earth—who looked like they hadn’t slept in days. They appeared to be just a few years older than him, and one of them was in the knights’ uniform while the other was wrapped in an oversized towel. She was swearing tearfully at what Alden thought was a pot full of red moss.

“You’re new,” the not-swearing sister said in a dull voice. “Thank you for third meal.”

“You’re welcome.”

She started to close the door, then she looked at him again and swept some of her dark lavender hair out of her face to see him better. “You look tired.”

If she’s saying that, it must really be showing.

It wasn’t that he was tired, exactly. Physically he still felt awesome. Mentally, he was really curious about this place and these people, and he was enjoying the diversion of being where he shouldn’t.

It was that the thing he’d been diverting himself from was starting to weigh on him too much.

He felt fragile.

And while he knew he wasn’t about to break, and it was just his authority aching, he was beginning to lose his determination not to curl up in a ball somewhere quiet to suffer in peace.

“I’m not exactly tired. Just having a busy day.”

“You should rest,” she said.

“I’m planning to rest for ages starting tomorrow. Stu-art’h’s room is at the end of this hall, right?”

She nodded.

Just one more quest to complete, he thought, turning to go. And then I get the present. And then I get to use the nice, pain-free summonarium. And then I get to go home.