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book talking?” she finally asked.
    Now, how does she know he’s a book? Denner wondered. Out loud, he said, “Getting him to talk is no problem. It’s getting him to stop that’s the trick.”  
    Inwardly, he debated for a few more moments. Then he sighed. He was just putting off the inevitable.
    “Where do I find her?” he asked.
    The High Watcher smiled, just a little, and gave him specific directions. So specific, in fact, that they must have been watching the rebel from afar. Were they sending birds to spy out the land? Or were their powers of clairvoyance that formidable?
    “She has short brown hair,” the old woman said. “She will try to stab you at your first meeting. And she will not be wearing the proper uniform of a Strigaia tribe Traveler.”
    Denner took that to mean that she wouldn’t be dressed like a novice actor in a cheap city play. He bowed to the Watcher. “I will keep you informed,” he said, and then turned to walk out.
    Hariman’s fussy voice interrupted his exit. “I can’t help but ponder the irony inherent in calling a blind woman the ‘High Watcher.’ Aren’t you rubbing her nose in it a bit too much? Or is it that she’s less manipulative and short-sighted than the rest of your—”
    Whatever else the book was about to say was cut off as Denner picked him up and squeezed him between both palms.
    Denner offered a shaky grin to the room of insulted Strigaia tribe Avernus Travelers.
    “Books, right?” he said, trying to laugh. “You can’t take them too seriously.”
    ***
    Hours later, Hariman was making up for the time he had spent silent by chattering non-stop.
    “…so you see, the term ‘Feathered Plains’ is actually a misnomer! The first Travelers to return only saw plains, so they assumed that the entire Territory was nothing but a vast stretch of rolling grassland! Naturally, that’s not the case, as was proven by the scholars—”
    “We’re proving it right now,” Denner interrupted. He pushed a branch away from his face. “These obviously aren’t plains.”
    “Tut-tut,” Hariman said. “Never mistake subjective experience for proper objective proof. It took years of cartography and observation to finally determine that the ecosystem of Avernus is so varied!”
    “That, or a single Traveler with open eyes.”
    The forest around them had everything Denner would have expected in ordinary, mundane woods: blooming trees, a green canopy, a carpet of fallen leaves, scattered underbrush. But everything here seemed to be scaled for giants.
    The fallen leaves were the size of bedsheets, the berries on nearby bushes bigger than Denner’s head. The trunks of the thinnest trees were wider around than a ballroom, and the canopy was so far overhead that the leaves might as well have been a green, sun-dappled sky.
    The branches that Denner pushed away from his face were attached to bushes the size of ordinary trees. On the scale of this forest, they might have been weeds.
    “At least they got the ‘feathered’ part right,” Denner said. He meant it idly, but he knew Hariman would respond. Hariman never passed up the opportunity to lecture.
    “Yes, indeed they did!” Hariman said brightly. “Every observed animal native to Avernus is some kind of bird. There are the birds of the five main tribes, of course, but thousands of others, many of which remain undocumented even today! What an exciting Territory this is!”
    A swarm of small, blurring forms the size of mosquitoes flew out of a nearby bush, pausing to hover in a flock over Denner’s head. As he got a closer look, he realized that they weren’t bugs at all, but some kind of tiny black hummingbird.
    Something rustled the leaves of the canopy overhead, and Denner craned his neck to look up. High above, a beaked head pushed its way down through the leaves. Its feathers were the color of flame, and its beak looked long and sharp enough to stab through bear hide. It cracked its beak and let out a ‘caw’