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I shook my head violently, gasping for air, trying to breathe through the memory even as I found it impossible to hold on to. When I looked at the people again, I didn’t see human forms, instead I saw them in their animalia forms. Horse. Sea Serpent. Raven.

Even then, I knew this wasn’t all of them, and I could feel the magic echoing through the land. The hidden waters was a series of interconnected worlds that the animalia had retreated to with the loss of the One Dragon.

Zoigei stared at the light around me, not even distracted by the sight of Naî enjoying this world of magic.

“I didn’t believe,” he said. “The others told me that they saw you. And I didn’t believe them.”

“What am I supposed to do that is so important?” I demanded.

“You have the power to learn all magics. Every animalia here could teach you theirs. That would make you able to stop anyone. You could prevent the invasion of Bemishu with a thought.” Zoigei finally stopped looking at the lights that surrounded me, his eyes catching mine. “Even a pet of the Imperium must see the value in that. You must understand why we cannot let the Imperium have you.”

“It is not your choice to make,” Tallu said. His intensity startled me, and I realized that he had understood Zoigei without a translator.

Tallu’s Dogs responded to the heat in his voice, pressing close around him. Asahi stepped in front of me, crossing one of the streams of light. He screamed, going down to his knees.

Sagam leaned forward, but didn’t take a step.

I gasped, reaching out, but the magic swirled around me and I knew touching Asahi again would only hurt him more. In my panic, the swirls of magic became violent, whipping around me and I took several steps away from the group, desperate not to hurt anyone else.

Someone leapt through the air, catching the current of it and gliding down behind me. I spun, ready for an attack, but it was an older woman, her white hair brushing the ground behind her. She blinked at me, her head tilting nearly to her shoulder and I recognized her eyes.

“Calm yourself, Airón of the Silvereyes Clan.” Her words were firm and I responded to her voice, which carried the sense of something from the far north.

“Owl,” I said, recognizing her with no introduction.

She clicked her teeth together, the sound sharp, and I could see the animalia she was under her skin. I could see feathers like tattoos on her flesh. She didn’t even bother answering my accusation. “Draw it back into you. Imagine it is a fishing net, and, in order to catch your fish, you must pull it back into your boat.”

I focused on her words, imagining the feeling of it in my head. Slowly, the colors swirling around me stilled, and then drew inside me. I could feel them under my skin, vibrating, giving me power.

With the magic contained under my skin, Sagam still stood tense, waiting until Asahi pushed himself up, his eyes glazed when he looked at me.

He tried to speak, but nothing came out. I frowned and Asahi took his position behind me, still not speaking, still with the strange look on his face.

Owl nodded. “Good. Now come.”

She encompassed everyone with her words and even Tallu followed behind her, although his frown pulled at his brows. Lerolian and the other blood monks finally joined us, weaving between the animalia. The animalia turned to look at them, although it seemed unfocused, as though they could tell the blood monks were there but couldn’t quite see them.

The animalia parted for us, and the goblins hesitated, murmuring to each other before Owl turned her head nearly all the way around, her eyes predatory.

“Come,” she repeated.

My skin prickled, hairs rising as we moved through the rows of animalia. I could still see their two forms, their animal forms superimposed on their human ones, and I knew I was seeing something hidden, something impossible to know.

Spider and Centipede were two sides of the same coin: one who had utterly adapted to the human world and another who was impossibly inhuman. I wondered what these animalia would be, but knowing that they had removed themselves from our world, that they had chosen to live apart rather than fight after the One Dragon had been killed, I was sure I already knew the answer.

As we stepped into the village, the shape of the buildings became clearer. They weren’t homes, they were temples. Owl’s was first, the statue of her animal form framing the door. The statue was made of black obsidian, its feathers lined in silver. As we passed it, the black of the obsidian changed color, becoming a snowy white.

The other temples were similar, and each was silent: the only creatures that lived here were the animalia. They had given up the world’s worship for the safety of becoming reclusive.

Owl led us to the center of their village, where a large round table sat. Claw marks scored the stone surface, and veins of shimmering blue ran through the white. Those veins pulsed with magic, gleaming brighter when Owl took a seat. Somehow there were exactly enough for all of us, and a dozen other animalia joined Owl in their own chairs.

The goblin council stood behind chairs, looking uncertainly at each other before the oldest of them asked, “Should we join you?”

“This war concerns all of us, does it not? The fate of the inheritor affects all of us, does it not?” Owl dropped her hand to the table, reaching out and dragging her nails across it, scratching more deep grooves into the surface. “Sit.”

The goblins took their seats, their expressions wary, the metal pieces in their clothes jangling as they settled. With an annoyed swat of Snake’s hand, the noise of the metal pieces went silent. The goblin council stilled, and their bodies tensed as though they were trying to keep from moving at all. Even Zoigei looked behind him, his hand drifting toward his sword before he pressed it flat to the table.

I glanced at Tallu, tilting my head in a question. He dipped his chin once, then lifted it.