Mia stepped through the barrier. It peeled off of her like wet fabric.

  She sank to her knees.

  Each breath filled her with relief.

  She forced her breathing to slow when dizziness set in.

  The air was cool, soothing her irritated throat.

  She took out the canteen and gulped down water.

  Stop.

  Mia pulled the canteen away.

  It was already half empty. She didn’t know when she’d find more water.

  Eyes closed, she bit her lips.

  “You’re fine,” she whispered, forcing the panic down again.

  She closed the bottle and put it away. She ate just enough to ease the hunger.

  The air was cool, tinged with a sweet scent. Mia listened, but couldn’t make anything out other than the rustle of leaves.

  No birds. No insects. Nothing.

  Unease prickled her skin.

  She stood.

  Trees stretched as far as her eyes could see. She looked back at the barrier, but it was dark green instead of blue. She couldn’t see the image inside, and when she tried to touch it, her hand met resistance.

  Once you stepped out, you couldn’t go back in.

  That explained why looters weren’t inside.

  It meant she couldn’t return to try her luck.

  Mia made a slow turn, trying to decide on a direction.

  Standing with her back to the barrier, left was out. The trees in that direction had larger trunks and were closer together. Chances were high she’d be moving deeper into the forest if she went that way.

  Going in the opposite direction was her best bet.

  Mia walked and walked.

  Her feet blistered, then bled. Every so often, she’d leave a mark on a tree. A knick to show where she came from. The sun moved from high above, disappearing behind the trees. The air moved from cool to cold.

  Mia tripped, again, landing hard on her knees.

  That was the third time. If she continued, she risked injuring herself.

  Mia wished she’d taken the man's shirt and Beatrice’s dress. They weren’t worth much, but she could have layered them to keep warm.

  The darkness refused to let her sleep.

  Every pop, creak, and howl jolted her awake, her heart racing. The sword, unsheathed, rested between her legs, her hands wrapped around the hilt. Mia couldn’t win against anything out there, but being unarmed felt worse.

  By the time the sun rose, she was a twitchy wreck.

  Mia took a moment and checked her feet.

  Take everything.

  It didn’t matter if it was valuable. Even trash might have a use.

  She’d take everything she came across from now on. She could have torn the dress to make bandages. As it was, she ripped apart the dishcloth, popping the blister and then wrapping her feet. She was careful; no blood touched the forest floor.

  Using the sword, she chopped down a branch and wrapped fabric around the top to make a cane.

  It was crude, but effective.

  She started walking.

  It was slower than yesterday.

  Mia’s stomach twisted, but she ignored it, taking a single, measured sip of water.

  The trees thinned more, the trunks smaller, a younger part of the forest. Mia slowed, her ears straining. It was more worrying that she hadn’t run into anything, beast or man. Not even bones.

  She’d never heard of a forest with nothing but trees.

  Was there something worse lingering unseen? Was that why everyone avoided this place, or was she the only one out here?

  Mia stopped.

  She thought she’d misheard, but it was louder.

  That was…she heard voices, loud shouts.

  She crept forward.

  Mia, hidden by a tree, peeked out.

  Men shouted.

  Blood splashed.

  Bodies fell to the floor, trampled.

  War raged.

  It wasn’t only men. Women wielding spears and swords charged forward, decapitating anyone who stood in their way.

  “Push them back.”

  “Don’t let them pass.”

  “It’ll be another month before the forest opens. There’s a batch inside, and I’ll be damned if I leave her with nothing to show for it.”

  Batch.

  Mia didn’t understand, not really, but instinct told her the ‘batch’ they spoke of included her. Her hand went to her throat, but there was nothing there. She felt the weight of the necklace, but she couldn’t touch or see it.

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  To them, she was prey. A commodity. She had to lower her value.

  Hastily, she took out her food and canteen, stuffing them into the bag. Mia had to hide the storage space. She could use the bag to hide items going in, but it was risky to take out anything she couldn’t explain.

  The canteen was new. The dark metal surface gleamed, showing her reflection. It wasn’t worth much, but it was nice. People who had nothing wanted nice things, and the fastest way to get them was to take them.

  Mia crouched, lifting the canteen and banging it on the ground until it was dirty and dented. She drank until only a sip of water was at the bottom, then wiped it off and put it in the bag.

  Food was important. Food could control people, giving it or withholding it. She looked at the hard bread, weighing her options. They’d take it. It was hard and unpalatable, but they’d take it because they could. She ate it all, feeling full for the first time in months.

  “Retreat.” A bugle sounded. There was the heavy crash of feet and a discordant clang mixed with the shouts and cheers of dogs.

  “Damned Perts. Dogs, the lot of them.” The voices drew closer.

  Mia grabbed dirt and rubbed it on her face. She hunched small, with the bag to her chest. At the last minute, she put away the sword.

  “I’ve found one here.”

  Mia stiffened. She heard the steps get closer, but she didn’t look up. The fear was easier to ignore when she was alone, but the weight of everything swelled like a tide, threatening to drag her under.

  “Get up.” A hand grabbed her collar, yanking her back.

  Mia didn’t scream. She let him move her, following along. What little fight she had in her, now wasn’t the time to lash out.

  By the collar, he marched her out of the forest. The temperature changed again. An oppressive heat that clung to the skin replaced the forests’ clean, crisp air.

  “I got one…looks like a boy. A little training and Gunther can make a man of him.”

  They’d set up a table by the edge of the forest. A man with glasses sat behind it, a book in front of him. Beside him was a stern-faced man with black hair, black eyes, and a black expression. “Press his hand here.”

  Feet barely on the ground, running to keep up, he dragged Mia forward. They didn’t ask Mia to place her hand on the book. They grabbed her palm and pressed it to the page.

  “Mia, no last name. Girl. Sixteen. No magic. No martial arts training. Little value. Next.” The glasses man did not look up. He read words off a blank page. Her life summed up in fourteen words.

  “No debt?”

  The glasses man glanced back at his book. “Nothing yet. Do you want to keep her for observation?”

  The black-faced man spoke. “Can’t sell her. No point in making her a prostitute. Send her to Troy. He’ll be able to tell if something manifests later.” His eyes did another once over before he looked away. “Remember to search the bag.”

  The glasses man nodded, making a note in a separate book.

  His hand jammed into her pocket, pulling out the few coins she’d left there.

  She waited.

  The blow was hard, causing her ears to ring.

  She fell, cupping her ear. Her face stung, but she bit her lip to stop herself from crying.

  “Damn it.” The man holding her cursed. “Thought I’d get a reward. But no, you ain’t worth a thing. Now all you got is a few coins in your pocket, not even enough to buy a bed for a night.” He kicked her in the stomach and yanked the bag away. He pulled it open, finding only the canteen. He opened it, emptying the water, using his foot to smudge it into the ground before throwing them at her.

  Her eyes locked on the spot where the water darkened the ground.

  Rage rushed through her.

  It came out of nowhere, unlike her, but she clutched at it, stocked it like a fire, keeping it hidden in her chest.

  Not now.

  “If you kill her, you’ll have to pay. If you fuck her, you’ll have to pay.” The glasses man spoke. His hand poised over the book, his eyes gleaming.

  “If I’m paying for a fuck, it’ll be worth the money.” He spat on her. "This one was a beggar. You can tell by the stench."

  He reached for her.

  Mia grabbed the bag and the canteen. He grabbed her by the collar again. His hands were harsh as they roamed over her body, grabbing and squeezing. Eyes closed, she pretended it wasn’t happening. She tensed when his hand grabbed her neck, but nothing happened. He hissed, dragging her along by the neck like a dog.

  The ground was red, wet with blood. She waited, but the hair-worms didn’t appear. At least she wouldn't have to worry about those.

  Apart from that, there was nothing in the space. A large trampled piece of ground sandwiched between two forests.

  People milled about, sitting on the ground or crates, cleaning their weapons. In the distance, people were picking through the bodies. Others moved through with spears, stabbing down.

  The man dragged her to a reed-thin, twitchy woman, standing by herself. The signs were unmistakable. This woman was an addict.

  “Run, and you're dead.” The man pushed her forward. When she stayed on the ground, he nodded and walked back to the forest. “Pickings are slim this time around.”

  Mia sprang to her feet, but didn’t run. She put space between herself and the other woman, who eyed the bag Mia had. Weighing her options, she emptied the bag and uncapped the canteen, turning it upside down. She turned her pockets out.

  The woman lost interest, her eyes back on the battlefield.

  The scene on the battlefield hadn't changed, but by the forest, more and more people came out. Some came out with food, while others marched people out. Most of the people were like Mia, docile, waiting to see what happened, but others had swords at their throats.

  They were all brought to the desk and then split into groups.

  Mia’s group was the smallest. When the sky turned orange and the sun dripped behind the horizon, only two people joined the group, both children. They weren’t healthy children either. Their skin yellowed with big bellies. Where the healthy children went was another thing Mia refused to think about.

  A red-haired woman approached them carrying a bowl. She upended it, bread thumping against the ground like stone.

  The drug addict moved first, scrambling forward, but as she reached forward, the redhead kicked her away.

  “My name is Nix. For the next week, I’m in charge of you.” She placed her hand on her hips. “Food is a reward. If you follow orders, you eat. If you contribute, you eat. You might think that inaction will only lead to food being withheld, but you’re wrong. Misbehave, and you’ll be whipped. Three infractions are the limit. More than that, and you're worth more dead than alive.”

  She kicked a loaf forward.

  We didn’t move.

  “Boy in blue, some here.” The child she’d called moved forward. He just stood there. He didn’t look at her or reach for the bread. “Good. Pick it up, and hold it. Don’t eat until you're told to.”

  “You,” she said, pointing at the drug addict, "have earned yourself a lashing, but because I’m kind, I’ll leave it at no food for tonight.” The redhead crushed a loaf with her boot. “You,” she said, pointing at Mia. “Take up the loaf with your left hand.” Mia did as she was told. “Girl, you come get your piece.” She nodded. “Line up in the order you received your food, and eat in that order.”

  The bread was dry and covered in dirt, but she forced every bite.

  The redhead clapped her hands. “Good, you can follow orders. You’ll be given two meals a day. Breakfast is broth and bread. If you earn enough points, you can get meat. The second is just bread. You’ll have one drink of water during the hottest part of the day. If you have a canteen, you can fill it. What you do with the water is up to you.”

  Mia felt heavy eyes on her. She didn’t have to look to know who it was.

  A whip cracked through the air, lashing at the dirt by the drug addict’s feet. “I don’t want any trouble. Behave. Your lot isn't worth the aggravation, but I drew the short straw, so I have to babysit you.”

  The redhead hawked a spit. “We march at dawn and stop when it gets too hot. During that time, you can stay in camp or wander the forest to see if you can find anything to collect. When it gets cool, we march again.” She paused, as if she expected questions, but was met with silence. “Every time we make camp, Mox will set up his table. He records everything. If you find something or want to purchase something, he’s the one you go to. Questions?"

  Mia counted to ten before raising her hand.

  “Knew it’d be you. What?”

  Mia didn’t know how to take that. She hesitated to speak, but needed the answer more than she feared the consequences. “How do we know the value of what we turn in?”

  “You don’t. Value here is funny. You could find a rock on the ground, and it earns you enough to buy a house, or you could find a bar of gold, and it’s not worth enough to get you a cold beer. Your best bet is to hunt. Other than that, plants are always good, poison or medicine; there’s a market for them. Anything else?”

  A thousand other things, other questions, but Mia didn’t ask.

  “Good, go to the table and line up for water. That’s all you’ll be getting until tomorrow. Then, get back here so we can set off.”