If nothing else, Jax was getting some great writing material.

The next three days presented ample opportunity for inspiration. Gigantic crab monsters eating their tent in the night? Genius. Asa discovering a scorpion in his shoe? Inspired. Xander following a will-o'-the-wisp into the foggy marshes? Cliff-hanger in the making. The downside, Jax thought, was that they were almost dying on a daily basis.

But, you know.

Great artists had to suffer for their craft.

"I hate that tunic," Romes observed.

They were sitting around the campfire, watching it spit golden sparks into the darkness. Romes' eyes reflected the flames. Asa — who'd been in the process of fanning the damp tunic in front of the fire — frowned.

"What's wrong with my shirt?" Asa demanded.

He turned the shirt over; it was a rough brown material, like a sac with short sleeves. Romes leaned back on her palms.

"It's ugly," she said.

Asa scowled. "It's cool."

"You look like a ten-year-old squire."

"You," Asa said, with great dignity, "have no taste in fashion." Romes took the last chunk of rabbit off the spit, and his scowl deepened. "Oi! That's mine."

She bit into it. "You've had six already."

"So?"

Romes wiped juice from her chin. "Gods, you're ridiculous."

"I'm twice the size of you," Asa said. "I need to eat twice as much as you." He shrugged, lowering his tunic. "Simple."

"Oh, yeah?" Romes waggled the meat. "Come and take it then."

Asa rose, a bright glint in his eye. Xander and Jax exchanged a look. It was like watching a dormant volcano, Jax thought; you just never knew when it was going to boil over. Asa took a step forward.

"Guys," Xander said, looking chagrined.

Asa made a swipe for the rabbit. Romes dodged.

"Guys."

Romes waggled it above her head, looking smug. Asa's hand darted out.

"Guys," Xander said.

They paused. Xander held up something yellowing, and it took Jax a moment to realize that the other boy had folded a piece of parchment into the shape of a bird. It was, Jax had to admit, actually very impressive.

"Look what I made," Xander said, delighted.

He wiggled the bird. Asa flopped down on the log. Romes polished off the rabbit, licking her fingers in a way that made Jax look away.

"Is it time yet?" Jax asked.

Xander looked up at the sky. "Ten more minutes."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Asa said, "but I'm so bored that I'm excited to face a pack of carnivorous birds."

Xander patted his crane. "They're called spearbeaks."

"Whatever," Asa said.

Jax leaned back, watching as an invisible paintbrush painted the sky a pale lilac colour. Xander had insisted that they wait until dawn to cross the River of Blood. "Spearbeaks are nocturnal," he'd explained, "so the optimal time to cross the river is when the birds are exhausted from a day of hunting."

Jax had considered asking Xander why the birds were nocturnal, but Xander had already been cheerfully chatting about the acidic lining of the bird's duodenum, so he'd thought it best not to mention it.

"What if they're awake?" Asa kicked out his legs. "That would be so cool. I hope they eat something in front of us."

Romes unscrewed her water flask. "I hope they eat your tunic."

"I hope they eat your face," Asa said.

She scowled. "I hope they eat your hair."

Asa's eyes blazed. "Well, I hope they eat your—"

"You know what?" Xander said loudly. "I've changed my mind. Let's go."

They worked quickly, packing up the makeshift campsite. Romes doused the flames. Asa consulted his map. And then they were trekking through the woods, following the sound of a burbling stream. Xander adjusted his grip on the rucksack.

"You remember what I said about the birds?" Xander said.

Jax nodded. "They're blind."

"Right," Xander said encouragingly.

"And partially deaf."

"Uh-huh."

"But they have an excellent sense of smell," Jax added.

"Well done."

"And," Jax finished, "they only eat live prey."

"Correct," Xander said, with the fond expression of a tutor that has watched his student successfully write the alphabet for the first time.

"And," Asa said, "the birds are bloody massive." He kicked a log out of the way. "They make Fish Food look like a dwarf."

"Gee," Jax said dryly. "Thanks."

"Technically," Xander said, "the condition is called—"

"Acromegaly," Asa finished. He threw a pinecone for Bibi; the pegapiglet bounded up the path, her broken wing dragging awkwardly. All three turned to stare, and Asa shrugged. "What? I do listen sometimes, you know."

The sound of water grew louder. Jax peered over a grassy bank; he could see a river carving through the earth like a vein. A white stone bridge stretched across, glinting like some strange, prehistoric animal's spine in the early morning light. Half of it, Jax noted, was also caving in. Of course it was. Bloody brilliant.

As for the river itself...

"It's blue," Jax said.

Romes frowned. "What?"

"The water." Jax nodded. "It's blue."

Her frown deepened. "What colour did you think it would be?"

"Well..."

He cleared his throat. Asa was the first to understand, and his grin was delighted. "Oh, my gods. You thought it was going to be red, didn't you?"

Indignation filled him. "No!"

"That's hilarious," Asa said, shaking his head. "You're an idiot, Fish Food."

"It's called the River of Blood," Jax said, aggrieved. "What was I meant to think?"

"Oh, the etymology is very interesting," Xander said, perking up. "The first explorer to discover the river — Captain Mito Ferrera — saw crimson waters from a distance. He assumed that the river naturally had red sediment, but it turns out the stream was filled with bodies." He smiled. "A hilarious mistake, really."

Jax and Romes exchanged a look. When Jax spoke, his voice was careful.

"Would you say that the river is filled with bodies... often?"

"Oh, no," Xander said. "A few times a month, at the most."

"Good," Asa grunted. "So they're crap at hunting."

Xander considered this. "I would say that the statistic is more likely correlated to the area being relatively remote."

Asa turned. "Translation?"

"Not a lot of people pass through here," Romes said. "So not a lot of bodies."

"But we're people," Jax said nervously. "We have bodies."

Her face was grim. "For now."

"Follow me," Xander said, adjusting his rucksack. "And keep quiet."

They crept down the slippery bank. Jax gritted his teeth. His legs burned with the effort of keeping himself upright, and his shoulder was on fire. The wound had scabbed over, the skin growing itchy and taught, but it still twinged when he moved it too much. And punching his dead cousin in the face, Jax thought, really hadn't helped the healing process.

He counted his steps.

Ten.

Thirteen.

White boulders dotted the landscape, spaced apart like haystacks. Jax frowned. He'd never seen that sort of texture on a rock before; it was strangely raised, almost like...

His stomach plunged. Oh, gods.

Like feathers.

"Holy shit," Asa whispered, following his gaze. "They're bloody massive."

"Hush," Xander said.

His eyes were fixed on the drawbridge. Standing this close, Jax could see that it had almost completely collapsed in the middle; they'd need to jump a short distance to avoid falling into the frothy river. His stomach tightened.

"Right," Xander said, his voice low. "Here's what we'll do. Asa, you'll go first with the pegapiglet. Jax will go after you, and then I'll follow." He glanced at the slumbering birds. "Romes can bring up the rear."

They nodded. There was no question why Romes was going last; if something went sideways, she had the best chance of taking out the birds. Asa adjusted his rucksack, positioning Bibi on his shoulder. His expression was grim.

"Okay," Asa muttered. "Here we go."

He crept towards the bridge. Jax held his breath; the stonework looked delicate, as if it was crafted from sugar spun clouds. Surely it wouldn't hold Asa's weight. But the other boy made it halfway, hopping over the gap with surprising grace. Jax exhaled as Asa hit the bank, turning to give them an elated thumbs-up.

"That was easy," Romes said.

Xander frowned. "It was, wasn't it?"

He was staring at the bridge as if it was a jigsaw puzzle. Something in Jax's chest grew cold.

"What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Xander's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Nothing." He patted Jax on the shoulder. "Go on, then. Your turn."

Jax swallowed. Lovely. How reassuring.

He rose, trying not to look at the massive, carnivorous boulders as he made for the bridge. How tall were those things? Ten feet? Twelve? Good gods, you could rock climb on those. And that was when the birds were curled into balls.

A pulse pounded in his throat.

Jax forced his feet to move. His breath came in harsh pants, and he could feel sweat trickling down his neck. The bridge wobbled. He could hear the roar of the water beneath him, followed by the occasional rumbling snore.

He got to the middle. Jumped.

Mercifully, Jax felt his feet hit the other side. His shoulder gave a painful twinge. From the foot of the bridge, Xander gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Nice," Xander mouthed.

Jax pressed his lips together and tried not to vomit.

Xander started up the bridge, scurrying over the stone with surprising athleticism. Romes came next. Jax started for the grassy bank, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. He froze at the end of the bridge.

"Asa?" His voice was a harsh whisper.

Asa frowned. "What?"

"Look behind you," Jax said.

Shapes had begun to emerge from the trees. Huge, lumbering figures with white feathers. The birds had the flat eyes of a reptile and a sharp beak, at least double the size of his forearm. Asa turned — swore colorfully — and raced for the bridge.

"Oh, fluttermuncher," Xander muttered.

The birds charged.

The creatures came from both sides, streaming down the grassy banks in feathered flood. A terrible shrieking noise split the air. The birds were herding them, Jax realized, his stomach clenching; they were driving them onto the bridge.

And soon, they'd be cornered.