After parting ways with the lava wyrm, it seemed the creature had gone East along a route we couldn't follow as it tore through mountains and spilled lava all through the area. The path Drifter picked for us may have been one of the only routes still passable.

  As it continued along it passed through the highway without a thought for what it was destroying, settling in another lava lake not far to the south.

  "Not many have seen that beast and lived," Gallivant told us, "And we're not sure we can get past it safely. Certainly not with all our goods. So if you have some method to scare that thing off I'll let you tag along on one of our carts."

  Drifter agreed. "Ta, okay."

  Borin gaped at him. "What do you mean okay? Even you could only run last time!"

  "This will go better," Drifter replied, "I will get ready tonight and leave tomorrow."

  Even I was unsure about this. "Are you sure? We can find another path. As unfortunate as it is for Gallivant, he's one of Fremen's men. He has options."

  Gallivant laughed at the suggestion. "As if Fremen would come out here. Since Dyalis passed he's loved his creature comforts too much, one of which is the climate of the south. He won't step foot in this hellscape if he can help it."

  The sweltering heat was uncomfortable, I could grant him that, but Fremen was notoriously protective of his assets, human and otherwise. He would lose nothing if he could help it, and in this case he likely could. While Fremen wasn't known for his combat prowess, he was still a descendant of the God of Greed Dyalis and an Awakened of great renown. He likely had a way to deal with this.

  But Drifter cared little for any of this. "Easier if I fight. Should be fine."

  I sighed, giving up on getting a strategy or reassurance out of our swordsman, or even getting him to slow down enough to negotiate a little. A ride south for the price of dealing with a creature larger than any I had heard of even in the distant mythologies of the past; to Drifter, it seemed to be a fair deal.

  Gallivant decided to have his caravan stop for the day, setting up camp in a wider section of the valley. Since we were helping them to avoid a much more dangerous slowdown with the wyrm's presence, they were happy to share food and drink with us. We had been eating dehydrated potatoes and meat for so long that I had nearly forgotten what a proper meal with herbs and vegetables tasted like.

  A pair of merchants ate with me, a portly man named William and a short man named James, curious about my stories and my time at Docet Barrington. Both of them were from the countryside near Barrington, so they grew up on stories of the esteemed academy and dreamed of somehow passing the test in some fluke of genius.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Of course, it wasn't an institution that simple to get into. The time and effort for studying every subject needed for the exam was immense, beyond mere genius, and that only got people to the starting point of needing to ingratiate oneself with advisors, sponsors, and research groups to justify an enrolment offer. For students like me, who weren't supported by their rich noble families, this was even harder, as we needed to find sponsors who could financially support us for at least some portion of our studies.

  Still, the mystique of the institution added to its prestige. I was happy to tell the tales of the library towers holding millions of papers from thousands of authors; the great debate hall where the wisest in the realm debated the most pressing issues of metaphysics; the rows of scribes hunched over desks, copying work after work of ancient literature so they could be carried outside the cloistered walls of the academy.

  I had gathered easily enough that this was a caravan of the Fremen Mercenaries. They were out of their usual territory, which was odd, but it turned out that Fremen had received a request from the government in Wystole for various supplies to fight their civil war. On the way back the caravan could not fully load their carts, as many goods were expensive or in short supply in Wystole, making it a relatively painless affair to bring us along.

  So in return for my stories, I really only had one question. "How did you guys know about the lava wyrm ending up south of us, anyways?"

  William thought for a second before answering. "Honestly, I kind of assumed you met him since he sits in the front wagon. We have a geomancer with us who felt the wyrm's movements late last week. Name's Cormac. He's a bit grumpy in the mornings but nice enough the rest of the time."

  "A geomancer? As opposed to the usual mages for this sort of trip?" It was common for caravans passing through the Blasting Mountains to hire mages to protect from the ejecta of volcanoes, and to clear the air for both breathing and visibility, but geomancy was a discipline that I rarely heard about.

  "In addition, but yeah, with Cormac we hardly need the other two," James replied before tearing into some sort of leg of poultry. It was tasty, but I was having trouble placing the flavour. Turducken, maybe?

  "Cormac can feel the tremors of volcanoes and other movements in the earth," William explained, "so we can decide whether to slow down, speed up, wait a bit, or whether we need Julian and Grayson to put up a shield."

  I found it interesting. Mages were expensive, with even the rural village mages commanding a price that could cover years of a normal worker's expenses. For Gallivant to splurge on a specialist who could scout in this specific environment seemed a waste to me, but I did not know the math behind the decision. Perhaps he was able to use fewer mages with this method, or move faster by timing his passage around the dangers of the region. Clearly, the risk was reduced enough to make the cost worth it.

  All of that was negated by the appearance of the lava wyrm, unfortunately. They had no way of knowing what it would do as they passed it by, nor did they have a way to combat it. Few mages could hold their shield against such an enormous creature for more than a moment.

  Drifter seemed confident regardless. I was, at this point, resigned to trusting him by default.