Lyn had gotten bored waiting, as ‘be right back’ had gone well over an hour now. Luckily they were good at finding ways to amuse themselves. They were in the middle of one of those ways — weaving a second wreath of long-stem wildflowers together — when Nat finally unfroze with a gasp.

  After a moment's pause, he then proceeded to shake his hands in the air energetically, “Ow! Ow! Ow! That's still hot! Why is it still hot?”

  Lyn casually continued weaving — no point wasting time spent, “Cover your hands in sand — that will reduce the temperature much faster.”

  Nat thrust his hands down into the sandy dirt, and his stance shifted, indicating relief. “Oh, that is much better. Thanks.”

  “When your hands are capable of arc welding, techniques for rapid thermal dissipation aren't optional. And for multiple reasons water is a bad idea; steam being a less obvious one.”

  A few deft twists and their wreath was finished — not quite as good as their first one, but fine work nonetheless. “Your time estimation skills leave something to be desired. What did you do to extend the freeze duration, this time?”

  “It turns out if you use enough aether, it burns. Who knew?”

  Lyn raised a hand filled with unused flowers, “I did, for one. With practice will come a more refined pattern, which will generate less waste heat.”

  They continued without waiting for a response, “But you could have popped out before you started and warned me. Then I'd have known how long I would have to keep myself entertained. Dusk came and went without event, by the way; not that I expected a pulse, since we had one this morning, but worth a mention.”

  “Ah, sorry about that Lyn. I didn't know it would take so long — Moira can estimate how long the first phase has remaining, but we haven't figured out how heat and energy dissipation translates to freeze time. We knew it would have some, but, well — how long has it been?”

  “Over an hour.”

  “Oh, no! Sorry again. Moira said she'd let you know as soon as she could.”

  “And how would she have done that? I'm unable to summon my arc while you might have your flame out. Speaking of the flame — no luck, I take it? You may as well bring it out, we can discuss what needs adjustment.”

  Luck? Who needs luck when you can just be amazing, instead?

  Lyn's eyes widened at the voice without an arc or flame, then narrowed as they looked around. “Moira? Fascinating. How are you doing that without a persistent flame?”

  I'm not. There is one — ah, you might need to step back — actually, Nat, why don't you move back a few paces for Lyn.

  He stepped back a few, got no response, so he moved back a few more. “Is that enough?”

  Also, while Nat's doing that, I would also like to apologize. It took me longer to calibrate for outside the Talent than I'd thought.

  Lyn peered at him, then around him. “Hm? What am I supposed to be seeing?” They kept peering about, then both hands went up, fingers wide, “Oh! I see it. It's more like a cloudy bubble, now. Up close, it just looks hazy — quite subtle.”

  Nat waved his — dirty — hands around, “Also, hands free.”

  “Oh, sure, rub it in — I've only had years of talking one-handed. You Humans all speak verbal Tradish only, but I'm telling you, you miss a lot of nuance without the gestural accompaniment.”

  “Hey, I appreciate the signing. I find it's a lot easier to avoid misunderstandings when you've got a second parallel track.”

  “Error correction is definitely a key feature of a second data channel, and one of the reasons I try to keep in practice, even around you Humans.”

  “I just… feel awkward using it? When nobody around you uses it, it just feels strange.”

  “I understand completely. You should try to keep in practice around me, though. It will help you when dealing with Ber'Duun in the future.”

  Nat glanced at his hands, then realizing they were covered in sand, began brushing them off. “So, why didn't you just go back to camp?”

  Making a show of searching around them, Lyn said, “Hold on, just let me grab my cane.” After a solid ten seconds of that, they then held up their hands, empty of said cane.

  Nat squinted a moment, “I don't see — ah, it's not here — Novek has it.”

  “Gasp. You're right. Novek has it!”

  “Alright, alright; I get it — you want me to go get it from him. Be right back!”

  Lyn beckoned, then held out their hand, indicating he should take the wreath and flowers. “Ah, nope, I've learned my lesson — we're not doing that a second time tonight. I have a better solution; get down on your knees.”

  Nat raised an eyebrow, but taking the flowers, he knelt — Lyn clambered up his back, to perch on his shoulders. They did not sit, but instead simply stood, balancing behind his head — how Humans managed without tails was a regular discussion point with Moira.

  Gripping his hair to either side of his head, Lyn pulled gently, as if on reins, “Alright, faithful steed, let us regroup with our compatriots.”

  “You just had to make it weird, didn't you?”

  “You'll get used to it. You only think I'm always serious because it's been life or death half the time you've known me.”

  It's true — they're only boring and serious when we can't find enough sufficiently dangerous trouble to get into.

  Novek was giving the coach a third walk around — he could tell that Ellie was losing patience with his silent evaluation. He just didn't tend to talk out loud when he was thinking; not like Ceress did, at least.

  Finishing his circuit, he paused a moment, and then made a cutting motion with his claw, “I just need to remove the roof for half a day, at most. It's some of the least used space and is one of the few places I can anchor something that will let it swing in a full arc.”

  Ellie, for her part, was standing with arms crossed — unamused. “I am not going to let you cut my coach in half.”

  The sound of a stick breaking in the distance caused Novek to tense up suddenly, and he reached to his back where Siya was nestled attentively.

  Nat's voice followed a moment later, “Ho, the camp! Sorry we're late.”

  Ellie grumbled, loud enough to be heard by the late joiners, “About time. You people spend more time sitting out in the middle of fields than my horses.” She made her way over to the cooking pot, and hooked it back over the fire to warm back up.

  Novek picked up his bowl and spoon from where it was near the fire — they'd waited to eat for the others — and looked up to see Nat walk into the fire light, with… Lyn standing on his shoulders?

  Nat knelt down, to let Lyn hop off, “Sorry! Complications — this is all very new, and there's a bit of a learning curve.”

  As they hopped down, Novek got a clear view of Nat's head — he gestured with his spoon at Nat, “So, is the flower wreath a fashion statement, or…”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Nat held the wreath out to Lyn, “Oh, Lyn made this, I'm just holding it.”

  Novek tilted his head at Lyn, eyebrows raised. “And the other one?”

  Nat looked over at Novek, puzzled, “What other one?”

  Lyn gave him their best innocent face, which he bought for exactly zero seconds. “What? I got bored waiting; it's not like it's an art museum — there's only the one statue. Anyway, I made two — they're for the horses; they're edible.”

  It took Nat a few beats before he reached up and lifted the second wreath from atop his head. “Alright, I suppose I deserved that.”

  Ellie laughed at this and moved to take them from Nat. “Ah, dandy bells — they certainly are. Fair warning — if Kashta figures out you're a source of tasty snacks, she'll never leave you alone again; she's a greedy glutton, that one. Anyway, soup's on — potato and leek. I was going to do something more involved, but I wasn't sure how long you'd be; tomorrow then.”

  Conversation halted while everyone served themselves to the soup, with the last of the bridge bug legs making their final appearance; Novek had a few bites of his, then held it up to his shoulder, where it was snatched by the insatiable maw that was Siya.

  It was time to handle a few items of business while the small group was gathered. “So, Ellie and I have discussed, and she's agreed to take us north, with a quick diversion for a shopping trip.”

  Ellie added to Novek's opener, “I'm picking up Tanner's pup — Khe — and taking him to creche with the others. That puts us in range of a trading outpost that borders the packlands and the wilds, and we can pick up some lumber at the mill.”

  “The lumber, by the way, is for the modifications I'd like to make to Ellie's coach. I had some smaller work in mind, but after this next bit, I'm going to expand on it somewhat. Ellie, you want to tell them what you told me?”

  “Want is such a strong word. But yes — you two should know, I've seen at least two riders in range of the camp here, that skedaddled off the road as soon as they saw me. I'm sure they thought they're stealthy, but like most horsemen, they forget what an extra meter or so of elevation does for visibility out here.”

  Lyn piped up, “Which direction?”

  “Both — one south of the bend, towards Bell House and Gravlin, the other back east towards the Labbat crossroads — I'm avoiding the town itself for now.”

  They gestured concern as they answered, “Well, that's not good. Do we have any idea whom they're looking for? Are we sure it's one of us?”

  “Honestly? I don't know, and I don't care. It could be the bandits looking to even the score. It could be a local town just keeping an eye out, given the disturbed Ber and the light shows — that are easily visible for kilometers around, by the way — I've heard a few comments here or there. What it means for me, is that I'm willing to take you north — tomorrow. No later. Then I'm going to run some less profitable, but safer, routes out that way for at least a couple of weeks till anyone who might have thoughts of retaliation gets tired of looking.”

  Novek had not meant to pull Ellie into his problems — it had just happened that way, “I'm sorry to cause you trouble, Ellie.”

  “Oh, don't think it's only you. Sure, you made some waves with that kit of yours — people talk even on the road. But those bandits were there for the money from the scrav just as much as anything. I made a mistake with that — sure enough. I know better than to ever let out value of what I'm carrying. It's different with an important passenger — they have guards or resources — but I'm just a coach master — nobody's scared of what I can do.”

  “Well, I aim to fix that. Let me do some work on the coach tonight — and we can discuss the rest later.”

  Ellie relented with a sigh, “Fine. I'm still not convinced about the need, but I won't say no.”

  Novek walked over to his makeshift work table, “I'll get to work then. Also, Lyn — I cored your cane and slid the rod in there. It's not perfect, but it should do until I can do a better job.”

  Picking up the cane as well as two pouches, he came back over towards the fire and handed Lyn their cane, carefully — as it was now almost three times the weight — as well as a pouch. He tossed the other pouch to Nat, intentionally badly. The kid blinked out and back into place where it was going to be and caught it — good, he was learning. “Nat, Lyn — these are for you. I made a bunch for Ellie and I think you can use them just as well.”

  Lyn already had their pouch open and was chuckling. They moved to tie it to their belt immediately.

  Nat opened his and looked inside. “Um, what are the metal spikes for?”

  “They're caltrops. For Ellie, it's to discourage other riders on the road. For Lyn, well. Lyn, you want to show him?”

  Lyn reached into their now securely tied pouch and scattered a handful of the caltrops in a cluster away from the others. They grabbed their staff and placed it opposite their good foot. Two arcs leapt out, jumping between the nearest caltrops from both their staff and the silvered line that ran down visible ankle and foot. They were cackling madly now — was he supposed to be so disquieted by a meter tall, still-wounded silverpaw?

  They nodded at Novek, “This is perfect — it lets me extend my range, as well as potentially letting me puncture simple armor or hide. Thank you.”

  Nat edged away from Lyn and their caltrops, then asked Novek, “Okay, but I can't do anything like that myself. Are these just for placing for Lyn?”

  Novek, I think it's only fair you volunteer to demonstrate.

  “Me? What? I made them. I did my job. Oh, fine.” Novek then took a few steps back, turned, and then started walking forward towards Nat intently. He did not stop as he got closer, but instead loomed over Nat as he approached.

  Nat squeaked, and then was a meter to his left, in statue form for a fraction of a second.

  Novek stopped the moment he saw him vanish, his foot hovering just above the caltrops that had suddenly appeared on the ground exactly where his foot would have come down. “So, Moira, did you tell him inside his personal space, or did he figure it out himself?”

  I may have hinted. Not everyone is a seasoned combatant like you, Novek.

  “I'll take it — honestly whatever gets results. But I think these, and other similar tricks, demonstrate that even if you're not sure if you want to kill an enemy, that you have opportunities to discourage or disable them.”

  Nat's eyes lit up, “Oh! I hadn't considered it that way — that's perfect. Thank you so much.” He began gathering the caltrops, looking at them, pausing, and then continuing. Novek could almost see the gears in his brain start turning. Excellent.

  Oh, now, this gives me an idea. Since we can do persistent aether patterns, I could do something very similar.

  Novek nodded, “All of you — keep thinking about other small tools, devices, or techniques you could use. I know you've got a mass limit on yours, Nat, so consider multifunctional lightweight tools. I'm going to go start adding some things to the coach, now.” He turned to Ellie, “Do you want the ability to drop caltrops from underneath using a line, lever, or pedal?”

  Ellie thought a moment, “Pedal with a locking mechanism. It's best for me if I can keep both hands free for driving and shooting.”

  There was a thud behind Novek, and he turned to look down. The bridge bug leg? Had Siya fallen asleep eating?

  Without warning, the kit scrambled from his spot where Novek's neck hunched, and he now sat directly atop Novek's head. “Siya, what the…”, Novek stopped himself short. The kit was perfectly still — Novek froze. “Everyone, keep your voices down, and do not look around. Lyn, pick up your caltrops, clean up the cooking like we're done for the night, and use those directionless eyes of yours. Ellie, go find something to do near the horses.”

  Novek reached out and gripped Nat as he'd started to turn, in what he hoped looked like a congenial back-pat, but was a vice-like grip. “Do not. Sit down and finish your soup. Calmly. Okay?”

  The kid sat, and stared at his bowl, doing the worst job of fake eating he'd ever seen, trying to side eye. Whatever, he'd take it.

  Ellie moved towards the horses, and did a credible stage-whisper, “Hitch like I was just leaving? Or bedding down for the night?”

  “No idea yet. For now, just get hands on and be ready for either.” Novek reached up slowly, and took the kit off his head. The kit did not want to move, and kept staring south. “Siya? How many? Where?”

  The kit didn't react, but kept staring south. Then, after a few moments, looked east, then back to the south. Not conclusive, but the vodat remained laser focused.

  Moving to his worktable, he started putting some of the more necessary components away in pouches and pockets. “Moira, while I'm packing up my gear, see if you can find any aether sources, please. Lyn, anything?”

  Lyn had stood and was calmly eating, with a head tilt now and then. “Nothing.”

  Moira's voice came out of nowhere, much quieter than usual, One, no, two low power aether sources, approaching from the south, just over three hundred meters, spread by forty meters. One to the east now, more powerful, over four hundred meters.

  “Ellie? Hitch, but subtle still. Everyone, make it look like we're just starting to bed down.”

  South have slowed. East is still moving in. There are some Ber to the west, so I could be missing something in that direction.

  “Okay, three isn't an assault force, that's mobile recon or a ranged kill team. That means we're leaving, not fighting. We're sacrificing the camp gear and bedrolls. Grab anything important to you. Moira, as soon as we're all ready, on my mark, can you put a targeting grid down, pointing at the largest source south, and the one east? Make it bright — center it here on the worktable, so it's not pointing right at one of us.”

  Novek put Siya, still staring, down on the worktable, then bent down and placed his crossbow on it. He hadn't prepped anything suitable, but he had two flare bolts he'd prepped that might do. Infusing the string and bolts as he'd done before, Novek then covered them with some cloth to lessen the glow.

  Can do. South has stopped at two-fifty, east three-hundred.

  “Okay everyone, start moving towards the coach. Moira, if they start moving fast, put up the grid. Lyn, get in first, make like it's bedtime. Nat, take Siya like you're giving him to Lyn, and need to climb in to do so. Ellie, we're done with subtle, get it done. As soon as Nat's in, grab the reins, and we go.”

  Ellie started moving with haste, “And when are you getting on?”

  “I can sprint for about two minutes. I'll meet you on the east road. Head to the packlands.”

  Barely a minute later — the moment Nat put his foot on the step — Moira's voice rang out, more urgent than before.

  They're moving again, fast.

  “Kill team. Ellie, Go! Moira, targets!”

  The ground suddenly erupted with Moira's blue-white aetheric lights, painting two very surprised figures that suddenly stood, with profiles that were distinctly inhuman.