Page 1417

Hector couldn’t take his eyes off the Hun’Sho. There must have been fifty of them, at least, all looking down at the group from various interconnected bridges above.

‘Lava people,’ he thought, still incredulous. ‘There are fucking lava people...’

‘Yup,’ was all Garovel said.

‘How do--?’ He struggled for an appropriate question. ‘I mean... how can they even EXIST? How can you have a body made out of fucking lava?!’

‘Well, technically, their body isn’t made of lava. The lava is a coating which they naturally secrete. Like clothes are to you. If your clothes were made out of your own sweat, drool, piss, and shit.’

‘What.’

‘It’s much more hygienic when they do it, though. I know the thought is tempting, Hector, but don’t cover yourself in your own excrement. You’ll get someone sick.’

He was genuinely lost for words now.

Carver started talking to the group again. “Now, if you would please continue following me, I will show you to a place where you can all get some rest. I doubt I am the only one who is tired, yes?”

A few grumbles of acknowledgment was all he got in response, and they began walking again.

Carver led them down the central path, right into a waiting crowd of Hun’Sho, which parted for them as they got closer. Carver began speaking to them, perhaps trying to allay their concerns. The Hun’Sho were not shy about answering the man, but Hector had no idea what any of them were saying.

‘Do you know their language, too?’ Hector asked.

‘Sure do,’ said Garovel. ‘Ancient Hunese. Quite a bit different from the Modern Hunese that I’ve been hearing the Hun’Kui speak.’

‘What are they saying?’

‘Well, they are expressing their confusion, for obvious reasons. There are a few comments about how weird you all look. Especially you. Wow, they’re really curious about you in particular. Your armor has them a bit spooked, I think.’

Not too surprising, he supposed. ‘They’re not gonna attack us or anything, right?’

‘Doesn’t seem like it.’

As they continued, the street grew noticeably more polished and reflective, and so did their black-and-gray buildings, which Hector couldn’t help ogling somewhat. What were they made of, he wondered? Obsidian, maybe? He didn’t know much about volcanic rocks, but he was growing more interested in the subject by the second.

And that architecture. He recognized the horizontal window shapes from the ruined city they’d just come from. The doorways were different from what he was accustomed to seeing, as well. Double doors were everywhere, but instead of being rectangular, they formed elegant, half-moon shapes.

In fact, he didn’t see any sharp edges, whatsoever. Every structure had a smoothed or rounded look to it, and combined with that omnipresent, marble-like polish, the entire settlement managed to achieve a kind of gentle glistening effect.

‘Alright, Garovel, I’m ready for my next history lesson.’

The reaper laughed. ‘Okay, um. Gee. Where do I begin?’