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Before we leave town, Agnar buys a large sheet of parchment and ink in three different colors.

At our camp that night, he lays it all out on a rock he flattens with magic and starts drawing. “This way, we can track the progress of the Withering, possible Hollow One sightings, and dead fields.”

That idea would never have occurred to me. A way to monitor the problem so that when we discover a solution, we’ll know where to go. Agnar does a surprisingly adept job creating the map, capturing a nearly perfect bird’s-eye view of the kingdom.

As he illustrates the bridge I led him over on our roundabout path to Veradin’s, he marks it “Three Pass Bridge.” He doesn’t utter a peep, yet I can see his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

In retaliation, I “accidentally” spill water down the back of his neck when I return from refilling our new waterskin.

While I assumed that would even the score, Agnar doesn’t seem to think so. The next morning, I wake up to discover moss blanketing my bedroll.

Agnar sits at the fire, brewing tea. “Are you going to get up, or are you going to stay in there until a tree grows next?”

While I struggle to cut my way out with the belt knife he bought and insisted I carry, he sits and sips his tea. It takes nearly half an hour, but he hands me a steaming mug once I do.

Later that day, while he uses the bushes, I decide to get back at him by mimicking the warning call of a rattleviper.

The bastard doesn’t even flinch, but he does begin swinging his hips back and forth. “Come here, little bitey. I’ll spray you right in the eye!”

It’s so ridiculous, I burst out laughing, giving myself away. The rusty noise surprises me. The easy banter and shared merriment, this feeling of being understood and accepted, is fun. This is what normal people do with each other.

What friends do.

I’ve never had a friend before. The guilt creeps in immediately after the joy when I remember that Veradin is fighting for his life, the kingdom is dying, and people are losing their minds to the Hollow Ones.

And I’m out here pondering taking an unneeded rest and playing pranks on Agnar.

As he walks back to the road, Agnar somehow divines what I’m thinking. “Hey. It’s okay to lighten up sometimes.”

“Is it?” I wrap my arms around myself. “When everything’s falling apart?”

“Especially then.” He rakes a hand through his hair, pulling it free of its tie so he can redo it as we walk. “If you don’t laugh when things are bad, you’ll forget how when things get good again.”

I did forget how to laugh. I didn’t recognize, until just now, that I’ve been feeling happy for the last four days.

Agnar walks ahead, not looking back at me as he leads the way. “Don’t worry. It’ll come naturally again now that you’ve started.”

He leaves me alone to struggle with my soul-searching, never so far ahead I get lonely and never so close as to crowd me.

And he’s right.

That night, while squatting behind a tree, the ground flows like water under my feet. I giggle as I’m forced to brace myself on the tree and attempt to avoid embarrassing myself too much. Then we both snicker together when I return to camp and have to fish out my new pair of dry socks.

On the fifth day, though, we both freeze as a heavy sense of impending doom rolls over us.

Hardly daring to breathe, we work to locate the source. In an attempt to reach the next town quicker, we followed a less-traveled road through a thick forest.

A glint of golden light sparks through the trees twenty paces east. The Hollow One’s smooth, unnatural head reflects the late afternoon light before disappearing again. We don’t pursue it as it drifts away through the trees. It was there and gone so quickly, it might have been a dream, if not for the deathly silence around us.

“I hate this.” I clutch my elbow with shaking hands. “The first time was terrifying, but at least then we could sort of see it.”

Agnar glances over his shoulder at the spot where the Hollow One disappeared. “Let’s get out of here before it senses us and comes hunting.” Yanking his cloak off, he drapes it around me, cinching the fabric in front to cover my hands. A shudder overtakes me, and I realize I’m cold.

This time, we sprint. Well, I Light Walk, and Agnar races beside me.

He’s barely sweating by the time we stop, sunset spilling red and orange over the horizon. A regular man couldn’t keep up with my magically enhanced running, but Agnar isn’t a normal guy. Not only did he keep up, he still has enough energy to set up camp and build a fire. I get to work and help too.

We build a big fire with enough wood to burn high all night.