Benjamin told some of the stories that followed, but mostly just the parts that couldn’t be told by anyone else. Whenever possible, he deferred to Raja or Matt. Even Emma told a few stories about everything that had happened, though her version usually involved very explicit details of gutting and decapitating Summoner Lords.

Benjamin thought it was a bit gruesome, and unlike everyone around him, he turned down the sweet wine that was being passed out to soften the blow. He remembered too well what insane dreams those gave him last time, and he decided that he was better off without them.

The Storyteller seemed a touch disappointed by his decision, but he did not make any effort to force Benjamin to get drunk. Sadly, Raja did not get that memo. “Ya gonna jussst sit there all nighttah?” he asked, pointing at Benjamin with his now empty cup. “Howw? Whhhy? Do you knows jussst how many of thsss beautiful ladies want a chansss to thank you fur sssaving them? Huh?”

Benjamin just shrugged at that. “You should enjoy yourself then. Maybe I will next time. All this talk of war and death, it doesn’t really put one in the mood for…”

Benjamin’s words trailed off as Raja pointed and smirked at Emma and Matt, who were making out in the darkness just beyond the edge of the firelight. All he could do was roll his eyes at that.

Okay, maybe most people don’t get turned on by war and death, he thought, mentally amending his words.

Still, half the camp was probably drunk, naked, or both by this point. They deserved to if that’s what they wanted; they could literally die at any moment, and now, apparently, Benjamin could add ‘Summoners dropping a mountain of goblins on top of their head’ as one possible way to die. That one would be interesting, at least.

Raja wandered off a short time later and left Benjamin alone at the central fire with the Storyteller, who eventually rumbled, “You have no interest in celebrating your victory?”

“Given the crazy dreams your punch inspires, I think this time I’ll opt out,” Benjamin said. “Everything else is quite good, though, and we really do appreciate the hospitality.”

“Of course,” the giant Tortiseman nodded. “Just as we appreciate all your efforts thus far to push back on the cancer, that is the manthings, no offense.”

Benjamin waved it off, untroubled. He knew they were unwelcome guests, and though he still worried about what might happen between the two sides once the battles were one and the Rhulvinar were gone, that was not a concern for today.

“You know she will want to speak to you whether it is in your dreams or in reality,” the Storyteller said finally. “She will not be denied.”

“Excuse me?” Benjamin answered as he did a double take.

“Look,” the tortoiseman nodded, pointing out a shooting star.

It was a faint, distant thing that should have burned up. Instead, as it arced through the sky, it slowly got brighter and closer. Half a minute later, it was an angry orb streaking toward the celebrations.

“No, that can’t be,” Benjamin murmured.

The Tortiseman merely nodded at that. “If you will not come to her, she will come to you,” it said with a smile. “I would hurry to her side now before you really anger her.”

With those words, the meteorite slammed into the grass a few hundred yards from the camp. The waves of grass rippled out in the light of the explosion, but darkness quickly returned as they refused to burn.

Even before the light faded, though, Benjamin was up and running toward the impact crater. He hadn’t specifically been trying to avoid the fiery woman, but he realized now that’s what it could seem like. Given how many lives were dependent on her good graces, that was a remarkably poor idea, and he ran toward her to let her know that wasn’t the case.

The Throne of the Sky Sea looked much different than she had in their last meeting. Even as she stood up, glowing with the heat of re-entry, he could see that much. Before, she’d been a woman of pure fire. Now, she was a woman of iron, like an actual meteor, and her skin was decorated by both craters and the complex striation that were often found on those stellar objects once they’d been polished. She was radiating heat, though, and glowed an angry red color, making it impossible to approach within ten feet of her before he had to shy away.

The grass had the same idea, and each piece bent back as she walked so as not to catch fire. As she strode toward him, he retreated from the heat, but already Benjamin was sweating despite the otherwise chill night.

“I come all this way, and still you do not bow?” she asked with a tone that bordered on offended.

For a moment, Benjamin almost dropped to one knee as he felt the same pressure that he’d felt so long ago in the Arboreal Throne’s tree palace, but when he saw the contemptuous smirk and the amused expression on her pockmarked face, he stood his ground. “But this is the second time we’ve met. Surely, we are old friends by now,” he said with a sweep of his hand and a mock bow.

“Bah,” she said with a laugh. “You are friends with my sister. More than friends. You and I are merely comrades in arms.”

“Then the only ones that need to kneel to us are our enemies!” Benjamin said helpfully, trying to turn her mood. It was enough to make her smile at least, and as she slowly cooled to something closer to ambient temperature, the two of them walked.

“Tell me of your victories, oddity, and your death as well,” she commanded. “I am interested in both.”

As Benjamin started to speak, he couldn’t help but wonder if simply getting trashed with everyone else might have been the wiser course, but it was too late to get out of this now, so he told her what she wanted to know. It’s not like it was a secret or anything. Only the part about how close he’d come to coming apart at the seams was really difficult to talk about.

He made it a point to tell her the good news and the bad. They had freed tens of thousands of slaves, defeated or co-opted several other armies, and completely leveled Arden. They’d also lost their chief advantage in fighting the Rhulvinar, though, and going forward, they would be more on guard against his tricks.

“So you can no longer defeat them?” she asked.

“I didn’t say that. I just need time and resources, and I can whip a couple surprises,” he said with a smile. There was no point in elaborating. If he told her he wanted to build a fuel-air bomb or try to harness a novel network architecture, she wasn’t going to understand. The Throne didn’t want the details. She just wanted him to make it happen.

“If you need something, you have but to name it,” she answered. This time, she looked earnest rather than arrogant.

“I know, and food and shelter is more than enough, but I need some pretty complicated stuff for what I need to do next,” he said, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say without offending her.

“The entire world is within my purview,” she smiled coldly. “You think there is something anywhere I could not obtain for you if the need were great and the cause was victory?”

“It’s n-not that,” he stuttered. “It’s just we’re in a field in the middle of nowhere and—”

With a sweep of her hand, she brought down a small cavalcade of comments or meteorites. These didn’t strike the earth as she did. Instead, they skimmed the ground just long enough to shine a light on the whole area before they returned to their place in the sky. What they illuminated made his jaw drop.

Standing not so far from where they stood now was a giant turtle that dwarfed the giant campsite he’d been in until a minute ago. The thing was dozens of feet high and hundreds of feet long. It’s a goddamned aircraft carrier with legs, he thought to himself.

“Is that a…” he started to ask, but words failed him.

“That is the island of Skaros,” the Throne told him. “She lost her home when the inner filled up with the Rhulvinarian ships that belch smoke. She stays as my guest until such time as the waters are free for her to return home. There is a lovely city on her back where your fellows have been staying until recently, and there you can find many forges and whatever tools you might need to make your trinkets.”

“That’s helpful, thank you,” he said as he came to grips with the fact that there was a Kaiju just standing there in the darkness. Sometimes, this world made no sense to him whatsoever. Why would they need him and his system when they had a 1000-ton walking fortress they could grind the enemy to dust with?

Benjamin shook his head to clear it. That was a later question, he reminded himself as he focused on the conversation. “But I need equipment that’s more precise and delicate. I’ll need precious stones and metals like bronze and—”

“Ah,” she said, nodding like he’d finally said something that made sense. “That is something that the Jade Throne could have helped you with, but she is a prisoner of the Summoners, so—”

“So you can’t help me?” he asked, disappointed.

“Nonsense!” the Throne of the sky sea thundered, glaring at him. Her temperature had cooled, and so had her demeanor, apparently. Benjamin noticed that her formerly shiny metal skin was starting to oxidize. “Never accuse me of not being able to do something. It is a deadly insult. It just so happens that in the days before our sister’s fall, a few of her stone children were abroad. I have given them refuge, too. If you travel to Lasthome at the root of Three Peaks, they will help you. They would do whatever is required to save their mother.”

Benjamin opened his mouth to ask where such a place might be, but sensing that, the Throne stomped, and the grasses directly in front of her burst into flames. This time, it was not flowers or lines that grew to show him the way. Instead, the embers of the dying foliage traced the broad plains, and dark lines indicated the river and the sea coast. One ember glowed white hot in a sea of reds, and he knew that was their destination.

It was a place that was to the northeast of where they were now on the other side of the river, but he couldn’t say how far. Distances always seemed to be in flux in this strange world. Absolutes like time and distance seemed to be very human concepts that were as alien to this world as the magic of the rune mages.

“Well, if they can help me, then I think we’ve still got a good chance,” Benjamin said. “Thank you.”

She smiled at that. “You can thank me by winning.” She was colder now. Her movements had been growing stiffer, turning the whole walk, but this time, her jaw squeaked as she spoke. She was rusting solid before his very eyes.

“Umm… Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need me to get you some fire, or…”

The Throne didn’t say anything. Her mouth had rusted shut. Instead, she shook her head twice with some effort, and then, without another word, she froze solid into place.

Benjamin watched her for several minutes, more than a little confused. In the dark, it took him longer than it should have taken him to notice that she was literally crumbling to dust before his eyes. Within only a couple of minutes, so much of her body had sublimated that her head fell off, and a few minutes after that, her body was gone on the wind as if she’d never been there at all.

“And I thought things would be less weird if I didn’t drink,” he chastised himself as he started back toward camp.