“Are we nearly there yet?” Lucy moaned. They had stopped to set up camp for the evening, leaving them plenty of time to get the gers erected before nightfall. “We must have been travelling for over a month now.”

  “I know, it feels endless,” Julian replied, getting off his horse to help Khorjin and Lucy unpack the carts. All around them, the mobile village came to a sudden halt, stopping and choosing their spots not far from the same winding river that they always kept close to. It was hard to tell how much ground they had covered, but he knew they hadn’t been moving fast because they had a herd of animals to guide and protect, and not everyone rode a horse.

  Another strange thing was how often he lost track of the time that had passed since he had no way of tracking the days, weeks, or months. All of that could be different on this planet. He definitely felt like the days were shorter, but by how much, he couldn’t say.

  Once the ger was all set up, Lucy went to fetch some water while the kids took a rest in their furs. In the ger, Khorjin lit a fire and got to mending the saddle that Julian used to ride his horse. She did it in silence, as she always did, her hands working delicately to mend the leather. The thing he noticed about her was how little she seemed to speak to anyone else in the village. Does she not have friends? he thought sadly. Or had she lost the will to live after her husband had his life taken by her new husband?

  With an aching heart, and finally feeling brave enough to confront her about the issue, Julian went and knelt beside her, just by the fire. Its warmth warded the chill away from his thin bones. He had practiced the words over in his head. Khorjin looked up at him, the fire catching in her jade eyes.

  Julian bowed his head slightly, laying his hands across his thighs. “I am sorry for your husband, Karagan. I am sure he was a brave man.” He likely butchered the grammar or structure of that sentence in the strange Sarugani tongue but hopefully she would understand.

  Her hands stopped moving in that moment, and she only stared at him. Those narrow, feline pupils expanded just a little bit, and she bowed her head in return. Her black braids dangled past her cheeks. “It is the cycle of nature. He did what he must, as did you, and the rest of us adapt to the new order. Only the strongest live to carry the song of their ancestors.” Her lips almost curled into a smile, revealing two small dimples in her cheeks. Then she got back to her work as though nothing had happened.

  Julian pressed his lips and nodded. He couldn’t think of a reply. Though he found it strange. Did she say that because she needed him? Or was it really such a common occurrence for these people that their husbands just die, and they simply carry on?

  “You speak well now for an outsider,” she remarked after a moment of awkward silence. Ardan mumbled something in his sleep in the dark corner of the ger, and Temur embraced him.

  He grinned. “Thank you. I haven’t had much of a choice.”

  “Once you learn the words for the ceremony, we shall marry, and I hope I can bear you many children,” she said casually, not even looking at him.

  Julian nearly choked hearing that. Oddly, even though he knew he was to marry her at some point, it always seemed so far away, something he never had to worry about. And children… How would that even work? These people looked like humans, but he wondered what sort of eyes such a child might have. The eyes of an Earthling, or these strange serpent eyes?

  Khorjin looked up at him with concern. The logs in the hearth crackled. “Did I misspeak? Have you no children of your own with your wife?”

  “I… uh…” He scratched his head, avoiding her gaze. A gaze that looked increasingly more curious. How to spin this… They still had to play man and wife, after all. “Yes, back home… They must miss us, I think. I don’t know.”

  “I notice you have not made more while you are here?” She raised a brow.

  Fucking hell, when did she get so talkative… It made him almost regret apologising to her. “How can I make more?” he replied, adding a tone of scorn as though he was getting mad, though he just wanted to get off the subject. “There is never a moment to be alone with her. Where I come from, those who marry have privacy.”

  Even Julian had to admit he was doing terrible work with Lucy. He had always been awkward around women, really. Never really knowing what to say or how to act. Especially around those he liked. It’s like all of his normal ways of talking went out of the window as soon as a pretty woman sat before him, and he would go out of his way to try to impress them or big himself up, only making himself look like a fool as a result.

  “If you wish to be alone, you need only say the word.”

  Just then, Lucy came in with a big basket of water. It sloshed around as she walked, some falling out of the sides.

  “Let me get that,” Julian said, taking it off her and setting it down by the felt wall.

  “Thank you,” she said, her cheeks rosy from the cold wind outside. She sat by the fire and warmed her hands up.

  Khorjin set the saddle down after she finished mending it. “You should go and hunt with the others. They will respect you more. Temur can accompany you.”

  “Temur hunts?” Julian asked, looking over to the boy, who now lay watching the three with his eyes open, still in the furs.

  “Temur is all but a warrior. They may be small, but they are strong and must learn to survive as soon as they are able should anything happen to me.”

  Julian smiled. “He may well teach me a thing or two then.”

  The pair set off as the sun began to set. The chill winds picked up, forcing a layer of goose pimples to cover his skin despite the thick layers he had over him. Julian was no expert hunter himself, but it now occurred to him that he wouldn’t be able to see shit in a dark forest at night, and he had no torch. Temur took one of the smaller horses, and Julian took the horse that was once Karagans. “How will we see in the dark?”

  The boy looked up at Julian, confused. “Forgive me, I do not understand your question.”

  “Have I misspoke?” He was still a bit rough with the language after all. “You know. Dark. No sun. Can’t see?”

  “We see when there is no sun? No?” The boy’s narrow feline pupils widened, and then it just clicked for him. Of course, their eyes! Cats and snakes could see better in the night, and it was because of the way their eyes were shaped!

  “Oh, of course,” Julian said. How fascinating. Some of the biology students he’d known at Oxford would have a field day with these people. He recalled how the days seemed to be shorter on this planet. Maybe that was why these people have such eyes? Could it be an evolutionary adaptation so they had more hunting time? Or perhaps prey animals here came out more at night.

  “Can you not see without the sun?” Temur asked as they began riding away from the village, joining the other men just setting off to go hunting. He looked every part a man of the village with his small composite bow, his arrows. It was only his youthful face, buried underneath his leather hat and felt coat, that gave him away.

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  “Not very well,” Julian admitted. “You will have to guide me.”

  Although Julian and Temur trailed behind the group of hunters, they were never far off. The two moons gleamed like gemstones in the night sky, one silver, very much like Julian’s own moon, while the other had a strange, reddish-brown hue. The red one was bigger, too.

  As they got further into the forest, Julian could not shake off an uneasy feeling of anxiety. How pitch black it was, the only sounds that of horses huffing, men speaking in muffled tones, and the crunch of twigs under hoofs.

  “Are the forests not more dangerous at night?” Julian whispered to his young guide, still trying to focus on balancing on his horse. He’d become a lot better at riding, but there was still much to be learned. Temur rode as though the horse was part of his body.

  The boy glanced at him, his wide pupils reflecting the faint moonlight. “Danger is never far, but we are the hunters here. My father told me we must be braver than the beasts.”

  Julian chuckled, admiring the boy’s spirit. Imagine if they were like this back home… “You can teach me alot. Where I come from, people don’t hunt anymore. And those who do, do so for leisure, not survival. We buy all our meat and herbs from—” his tongue twisted for the word “shop.” He didn’t know the Sarugani word for it yet, or even if they had a word for it, so he just said in English, “Shops.”

  Temur frowned, tilting his head. “What is this ‘shops?’’”

  Julian shrugged, trying to find the words. “A place where people trade. We give them coins or paper, and in exchange, the merchant gives you whatever you need. Food, clothes, anything.”

  The boy narrowed his eyes in confusion. “This is strange. Can your people live without these shops?”

  Julian laughed, his steamy breath visible under the moonlight. “I doubt it. I’d have perished in a day had your people not found me.”

  Temur grinned faintly. “You ride, hunt, and protect your family well enough. I think your people are not weak.”

  Julian’s eyes widened. “Family?” he echoed, almost refusing to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

  “You will be my mother’s husband.” Temur nodded. A seriousness in his tone made him sound far beyond his years. How could this be a ten year old? “That makes us your family. My father is gone, yet you are here, taking up his duties.”

  For the first time, Julian felt the weight upon his shoulders of what it meant to take Karagan’s place—not just in Khorjin’s life but in her children’s as well. He could have never imagined himself being a father before, but he reached over and patted Temur’s shoulder all the same. “I’ll try my best. For all of you.”

  Further into the forest and into the night, the hunting party got wind of some large game. Julian summoned Sarigen, the lilac fire emitting from his palm and materializing into the magical ghost bow. It was still a struggle for him to ride whilst holding the bow; meanwhile, Temur beside him had his bow at the ready, riding effortlessly.

  “Arahkin,” Tulgutai sneered, riding up beside him. “We’ve traced a monstrous elk not far from here. Would you like the first shot, seeing as your bow is more accurate than everyone else's?”

  Julian met his gaze. He didn’t know why, but just by the way Tulgutai addressed him, he sensed some kind of trap or trick. “I can hardly see anything. Why don’t you teach me? Isn’t that why I’m here?”

  The horse beneath Tulgutai snorted, getting restless, and he yanked on the reins. His scowl deepened. “A shame the Arahka did not give you a better pair of eyes.” The other hunters behind him chuckled. “Even with a witch’s bow you can not hunt. What the targan sees in you, I have no idea.”

  Temur bristled beside them, and he rode up next to Julian. “I will take the shot for my father.”

  An odd feeling of warmth spread from his heart when he heard that. It made him feel paternal in a way. Does the child truly have so much respect for me? He said nothing, but he did smile, and nod his approval at the boy.

  Tulgutai just laughed. “You’ll be the first Arahkin who needs a boy to fight his battles for him, I suspect. Go on then.”

  Temur took the lead, and the group continued moving through the dim forest. Even though Julian’s vision had adjusted to the night, he could still hardly see a thing. Orkhun Targan, who had been leading the hunting party, raised a hand to silence the hunters. His nostrils flared at the air.

  Then Julian caught it.

  The scent of smoke. Pungent and invading his senses like a dense mist.

  “Riders!” the targan hissed, and everyone drew their bows.

  Julian got Sarigen ready. His heart was already pounding. Having to keep his balance on a horse, in the black of night when he could hardly see, against a rival tribe of horse archers? It would be a miracle if he survived.

  They had hardly drawn their arrows when the sound of galloping hooves echoed through the trees. From the black woods emerged the shadowy silhouettes. Deadly shades heralding death and destruction. Their hooves thundered. Their shrilling war cries pierced the air, getting louder and louder. Their dark, tattered furs became visible before the arrows began whistling past his face.

  “Jesus Christ!” Julian hissed, quickly ducking and beckoning his horse to move out of the way.

  “Attack!” the targan screamed, and his own tribesmen shot their arrows. Temur had already disappeared into the night, so Julian set about finding him as quickly as possible.

  The shades dashed back and forth, getting harder to tell who was who. When he managed to still his horse, he let his ghost arrows fly. With the darkness, it was hard for him even with Sarigen to land the arrows, but a few hit their mark. Horses dashed through the woods without their riders, and others crashed into the hedges.

  Julian could tell the ones he slew because their souls hovered over their corpses with wispy blue light, ready for him to suck them into his hand. He could do that after the battle, assuming he didn’t die.

  Further ahead, Tulgutai unsheathed a scimitar and charged into the fray with a thunderous roar. He glanced at Julian after slaying a rival warrior, then nudged his head toward the darkness. “Shoot the ones at the back, Arahkin!”

  Julian nodded, respecting that Tulgutai was clearly more experienced, and dashed with his horse around the outskirts of the battle. He camped in a spot dotted with bushes and let his ghost arrows fly one by one, felling the riders at the back.

  In the heat of the battle, Julian spotted a rider trying to chase down Temur. The boy was out of arrows and now looked far more petrified than Julian, his small bow no match for the man’s monstrous spear. Julian shot a ghost arrow. It winded past three trees to meet its target straight in the chest, saving his adopted son.

  And so it seemed, just as quickly as it began, that a triumphant cheer, led by Orkhun Targan, ended the fight. Julian, catching his breath, jumped off his horse. On instinct, he raised his hand, and the eye tattoo on his palm glowed blue. The souls of all those he slew flowed into his palm like tendrils of mist, leaving the forest in darkness once again.

  A surge of energy rushed through him as the fallen warriors’ souls merged with his own, and he sensed inwardly that with every soul, Sarigen became stronger. He sensed the ghost bow wanted to feed, to grow… It wants to evolve. It wants to eat and change with me. He didn’t know how he knew, but it was like an instinct, like a knowledge buried deep within him. The Arahka.

  The hunters regrouped around Julian, panting and bloodied, but victorious.

  They returned to camp a thinner pack than they left, without any game to show for it. Julian guided Temur back to the ger with a hand on the boy’s shoulder. But before they got back inside, Julian noticed Tulgutai watching him from the distance.

  “What?” Julian spat, his blood running too hot for another contemptuous lecture. Perhaps it was the new infusion of Sarugani souls flowing through his veins.

  Tulgutai smiled, approaching him. “Calm, Arahkin. I do not mean to scold you now. You fought well… for an outsider.” His tone was far from friendly, though his eyes did not hold the contempt they usually did when he watched Julian.

  “And you didn’t die. That’s a victory for the pair of us.” Julian smirked.

  The man scoffed and walked away, leaving Julian with Temur. The boy looked up at him with wide eyes. “You saved me,” he muttered. “Thank you.”

  Julian ruffled the lad’s hair. “You said I’m your father, didn’t you? It’s only my duty.”

  The boy grinned, and they returned to the ger. For the first time, Julian felt like he truly belonged somewhere.