text: Having packed some supplies from Alessia’s boat, we began climbing over the hills and troughs of Stetguttot Heath. The trek was arduous from the start. Paths rose between gorse and thistles, weaving their way up steep gradients. Then, at the top of a hill, you could see across the valleys ahead of you, before you descended down into the basin below and began the process again. Though the northern spring air was cool, the constant climbing on uneven dirt paths was tiring - the cool breeze icing my face while my thighs became caked in sweat. “What do you make of this place?” Alessia asked as we crested our third hill of the day. “About what?” I said, panting. I couldn’t help but feel a minor frustration at how much calmer Alessia’s breathing was than my own. She let out a small chuckle. “I meant about this guy apparently being some idiot.” “Doesn’t add up. They went from being a miner to suddenly having enough funds to buy an army. Then they want murder and books about history,” I said, taking a few deep breaths before we began clambering down the hillside. “Any chance that whoever did it gave a fake name and island to Tima Voreef?” “Sure. In theory. But then why use the real name of someone from another island? Just jumble together some letters and call it a day.” Alessia shook her head. “Probably the same guy, but you’re right. Something’s off.” “This whole island’s off,” I replied, as I stepped over a large rock blocking our path. “The islands are more spaced apart up here. Means fewer traders, and that means pirates, and that means even fewer traders. But there should be someone coming up this far. Yet, I’ve never once been sent here on a trading run or even heard of anyone coming here.” “Well, hopefully we’ll find out after another...” I looked up at the climbs that awaited us. “...few thousand hills,” I sighed. It was tempting to cut across, away from the paths, and trek in a more direct route, but any shortcut always looked blocked. Thick thistle bushes grew from uneven cracks in the ground; rigid branches that crept up to waist height ladened with spikes. Even if you dared to wade through the vegetation, the bushes blocked out sight of the ground, and uneven rocks and ditches promised to twist an ankle or break a bone. Elsewhere, the hills were simply too steep. The heathland would give way to a sudden, sharp cliff. Stones that protruded from the wild grass offered the only warning of a quick ten metre drop to the floor below. We could shave off a few seconds, cut the odd corner, but the reality was that our journey across Stetguttot Heath would be slow. A great deal of effort, with little mileage covered. I woke the next day with stiff legs, my knees creaking with movement, as the pain in my thighs refused to evaporate entirely. We were unsure of how far we had even walked. There were now some valleys behind us, but the number in front still seemed endless. However, a cool breeze and a good sleep helped invigorate us as we resumed our walk. After a couple of hours we stopped for a drink. I pulled off my satchel and laid it on the ground. I opened it up, took out a canister of water. The path here was wider. Two parallel lines of dirt - fit for two cart wheels - traced up the hill, a thin strip of weeds poking out between the worn ground. Beneath us, the path continued with a series of gradual switchbacks that snaked into the gorge. It was a more pleasant path to take than those we had been on, but at the same time I was aware that a smoother and easier descent meant even slower progress towards our eventual goal. Above us, grey clouds hung oppressively, smothering us, giving the air a claustrophobic taste. Around the edges of the smog, halos of yellow gave promise to the sun behind, but failed to penetrate, leaving the ground shadowless. Without the sun to guide us in the constant twists and turns of the mountains it was easy to get disorientated. “How much further do you reckon it is?” I asked. Alessia rolled her shoulders. “I’m just assuming we’ll get there sometime tomorrow.” I laughed. “Are you even certain we’re heading the right way?” “I think,” she paused. “Probably,” she paused again. “Fairly sure.” Out of my peripheral vision I saw a figure contrast against the sky as they walked over the summit of the hill behind us. “Maybe they can confirm?” I asked. “You’re not trusting my directions all of a sudden. You know I’ve navigated weeks on the ocean right?” “Yeah, but we’re not at sea,” I said, taking another sip of my drink. As the figure walked closer, I could see they were a young man, most likely still in his teens. His tall lanky frame seemed disproportionate to his pale boyish face. On his back, he carried a rucksack that seemed a size too small, and it gripped tightly at the shoulders, pinching his collar. “Excuse me, can you confirm if this is the correct way for Section F?” I asked as they approached. “Uh, yeah, eventually.” The man’s pace was unchanged, and he continued walking towards us as his eyes darted around, scanning his surroundings. “Thanks,” I replied, an unidentified uneasiness creeping up on me. “Do you know if the path is like this most the way?” “I think so,” the man said, now only a few metres from us. “Great, we’re just-” The man ran forward, bent down, and grabbed the satchel by my feet, charging past me down the hill. I let out a delayed yelp of anger as he sprinted away, plumes of dust kicking up from his heels. “Get him!” Alessia said, in an irritated tone as she quickly repacked her own bag. I gave chase after the man. His young, gangly frame skipped across the dirt path as he pulled the satchel over his shoulder. My feet took long leaps between each step, the gradient making each pace a fraction longer than expected. Slowly, I was catching up. As we reached one of the switchbacks in the path, the man took to the outside of the curve, my outstretched fingers just brushing the edge of his shirt as he went by me in the opposite direction. But as I rounded the bend, I looked up to see Alessia running down the higher parallel section. She looked over the edge and spotted the man below. She turned sharply, leaping off the steep embankment. Her feet landed mere centimeters from her target, and with her outstretched arms she caught the man, as her momentum sent them both into a tumble. They came to a stop at the edge of the path. Another roll would likely have taken them both further down the hillside. The man coughed loudly as he lay on his back, arms sprawled out. I caught up and stood next to him, leering down. “Don’t even try and move,” I said, my voice artificially gruff. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man said, his voice younger than it had been. Alessia stood up and quickly checked herself over for any cuts and grazes. “We’ll be taking this back,” she said, as she pulled up the stolen satchel. “You can have it. I’m sorry. Just. Let me go. I didn’t want to cause any trouble.” “Don’t worry. We ain’t gonna hurt you,” Alessia said. “Might as well see what’s in here though.” She yanked the rucksack from beneath the prone man’s arm. “Hey. You can’t take that from me. That’s mine,” he protested meekly. “Uh huh. So was the satchel a couple of minutes ago,” Alessia hummed as she undid the clasps on the bag. “Look. Take your own bag back. And I’ll pay you some more if you want, just give me back the rucksack.” The man’s voice was becoming increasingly frenetic. He pulled himself off the floor, sitting on the dirt, his hands reaching out pleadingly towards the bag. “Why? Whatcha got in here?” Alessia opened the flap and looked inside. “Nothing. Nothing that would interest you, I promise.” Alessia reached in and pulled out a large book. It had thick, hard covers, with what must have been a thousand pages of content held between. Alessia turned it over to read the cover. “Medea’s TBU Preparation Guide, volume 23” The man looked to the side, but he remained silent. “What is that?” I asked. “Nothing important. Honestly. If you just give it back-” “You’re a terrible liar, kid,” Alessia said. “Now this book ain’t worth anything to us, but I’m guessing you want it back with good reason.” The man leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. “Honestly, it’s just some book. It’s not worth anything.” “So you won’t care if I start ripping pages out of it one-by-one?” Alessia opened the book, holding a sheet of paper tightly in her grasp. The man closed his eyes. “Please don’t” “Okay, so then stop speaking crap,” Alessia said walking towards him. “What’s your name?” “Cameron” “And, *Cameron*, why do you want this book so bad?” Cameron paused, his tongue stuck at the edge of his mouth. “I stole it. I’ve been trying to work out a way to steal it for like a year and I finally succeeded.” “And then you tried to steal from us?” Alessia chortled. “Yeah. Seemed like an easy target.” “No one ever tell you to do one dumb thing at a time?” Alessia said, rolling her eyes. “So what’s so important about this book anyway?” Cameron very slowly pulled himself to his feet. Alessia took a couple of steps backwards, tightening her grip around the book. Cameron let out a self-loathing sigh. “You’re not from the island are you?” “No,” I replied. “Why?” “Because if you were, you’d know what that book is,” he said to me, before turning to Alessia. “It’s a guidebook, to the test that every person on the island takes. A small group of people who are involved in creating the tests also produce a book that contains all you need to know to take it.” “It gives you the answers?” “No. It teaches you. It’s a study guide. You still got to work - be smart. But, it helps you prepare,” Cameron said. “The problem is they only make a handful of copies. They get bought by the teachers in the richest sectors, so those schools get a head start.” He paused, before pointing with a straightened arm at the book. “Teachers will pay a lot of money for that book, which is why I have been trying to find a way to steal a copy for a whole year”. Alessia slowly started putting the book back in the bag, treating it with care. “And so your plan is to go give it to some other school. Take the knowledge from one school and give it to another.” “Yeah. Stole it from the rich bastards in section B and taking it to F. And yeah, I’m gonna sell it to them. It’s not charity. But, still helps spread the word.” “Well, I appreciate you telling us the truth, Cameron,” Alessia said. “So how about we strike a deal.” Cameron let out a long bellowed huff. “What?” “You know these hills pretty well by the sounds of it. And I’m guessing you know a bit about Section F and the people there. You take us there, introduce us to people, get us the information we need, and we’ll give you your book back.” “And if I just grab the bag off you right now?” Cameron replied, squaring his shoulders. “Then I put my knife in your gut,” Alessia said, calmly. Cameron thought for a second. “Fine. But I swear you had better give it back.” “We will,” Alessia said. “But meanwhile,” she outstretched an arm pointing down the slope of the hill,. “lead the way.