Jason felt dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. That tiny figure in the distance could spell big trouble. Aram had worried from the start that their enemies might find a way to track them using the eagles. Jason looked to the small half giant.

Aram swiveled his spyglass to where Jasher was pointing. “He has a telescope of his own,” Aram snapped. “He’s waving. He’s turning his horse.”

“They must have caught the eagle,” Jasher guessed. “They came north and used it to track us.”

“How could they have caught it?” Farfalee asked. The eagle perched on her arm, eating from her hand. “Eina would not have gone to them willingly. Until I send it with a message, while I remain alive Eina would only come to me.”

Jason thought she sounded a little defensive. Farfalee had to feel terrible that one of her eagles had given them away. After all, Aram had warned her.

“It would have taken some craft,” Jasher said. “Does it matter how they managed it? The damage is done. We need to pick up the pace.”

By sunset they were in the shadow of the Great Yellow Cone. Aram had grown, which made Jason feel a bit safer. Spyglass in hand, Jasher scrambled up the side of the geyser cone. The climb was hundreds of feet. Much of the light had faded before he reached the top.

“A big group, still riding hard,” Jasher reported upon his return. “Could be as many as thirty riders.”

“How far back?” Jason asked.

Jasher inhaled through his teeth. “If we hold still and they ride through the night, they might have us.”

“Then we had best not keep still,” Farfalee said.

“We’ll need to take care,” Jasher said. “The Polished Plain lies ahead of us. The ground is thin there. I have always heard that horses are too heavy to cross it, and the information on our most comprehensive map agrees.”

“Should we think about finding a place to make a stand?” Jason asked. “Try to catch them off guard? Hit them with a rockslide or something?”

“Thirty is too many,” Aram said. “We only have two orantium spheres. We should first try to outrun them.”

“How far to the plain?” Farfalee asked.

“We could be there before sunrise,” Jasher replied.

“The horses are tired,” Nia said.

“We won’t ride them hard,” Jasher replied. “We don’t want to attempt the Polished Plain in the dark.”

After their evening meal they continued riding. There were enough clouds to mute the moon most of the time, forcing Jasher to light a length of seaweed. The glow let them see enough to avoid falling down a hole, but it would also give their pursuers an easy target to follow.

The worry of enemies behind them kept Jason from feeling too tired. He listened to the strange exhalations of the alien landscape—the burbling of sludge pools, the sighs of steam vents, and the gusty splashing of geysers.

After they paused for a quick nap and some food, sunrise found them at the edge of a spectacular plain that stretched ahead for miles. Less than an inch of water flowed across the flat, stony expanse, giving the surface a glossy shine. Every color was represented in streaks and swirls, with an emphasis on white, yellow, orange, red, and turquoise. Bubbling springs abounded, the water spreading more than flowing. Steam leaked up from everywhere. Crouching at the edge of the damp plain and extending his hand, Jason found the water lukewarm.

“We lack a good vantage anywhere close,” Jasher said. “It is hard to judge how far back our pursuers remain. If they rode hard, they will have gained on us. Afoot it could cost us all day to cross the plain. The question becomes whether we proceed with or without our mounts.”

Jason looked back. He couldn’t see any sign of enemy riders. But they might lope into view at any second.

“Can we go around?” Del asked.

Jasher showed the drinling the map. “The plain is long, and it curves around our destination. Going around is not feasible. It might not even be possible.” Jasher folded the map, staring forward. “The entire plain is essentially a frail crust over superheated water. Even without the weight of our mounts we could crash through at any moment. It will be like treading on weak ice.”

“It’s a good time to be small,” Aram said. “What if we lead the horses?”

“It’s a risk,” Jasher said. “Cracks can spread. If a horse breaks though, it could start an event that could take all of us with it.”

“Then we walk,” Farfalee said.

“Our enemies will have the same choice,” Jasher cautioned. “If they stay mounted, and the ground holds, they will catch us.”

“Do you think it will hold for horses?” Farfalee asked.

“No,” Jasher said. “I’m worried whether it will hold for us. If we walk and they ride, I believe theirs will be the greater risk.”

“Then we walk,” she repeated. “We had best make ready.”

Working quickly, they took as much of their gear and provisions as they could reasonably carry. Jason checked his saddlebags for any stuff he might have missed. Corinne tried to communicate with the horses to run off and thrive in the wild but didn’t seem optimistic about her success. Del volunteered to lug Aram’s armor. Nia took his enormous sword.

“It’s heavy,” Aram warned her.

“I’ll be fine,” Nia said. “If anything, the exertion will just make me stronger.”

“Tread lightly,” Jasher advised. “If the ground starts to give, fall flat. We’ll walk single file, not too close together. I’ll take the lead.”

“I’ll bring up the rear,” Del offered.

Walking behind Farfalee and ahead of Corinne, Jason ventured out onto the Polished Plain. Water splashed gently with each step. Jason noticed that the temperature of the thin layer of water varied from tepid to boiling. He felt tense, aware that he might break through into scalding water at any second. From time to time he sensed the ground creaking beneath him.

Jasher did not lead them in a straight line. He explained that he was trying to guess the safest ground, based on the presence of springs, venting steam, and the water temperature. He kept well away from the smoldering pools, where the ground had already given way. They advanced in silence, listening for evidence of danger. Several times Jasher edged back carefully as the ground crackled underfoot.

Jasher tried to keep them in warm water rather than hot, but it was not always possible. Heat radiated from the water and the ground, leaving Jason with lots of empathy for steamed vegetables. A greasy sheen of sweat and vapor clung to him all morning.