Novek chuckled the entire time as he swapped positions with Nat. It was easier to keep watch from outside — and the kid seemed to have recovered sufficiently from earlier, so the distraction of driving wasn't as necessary. That was fast — too fast. Novek would have expected a veteran to shrug off a fight like that, mostly with dark humor and excessive alcohol consumption. But Nat had recovered much of his usual personality far faster than Novek would have anticipated.

  He preferred to have an idea of the particular blend of sociopathic traits, chronic trauma, or… different ways of thinking that the people he might need to rely on had. It helped him predict their actions better, which was important when he might have to place his life in their hands. Not that it would have been a significant concern if the kid was a sociopath — more than a few people he'd worked with well for years were, to put it mildly, of varying degrees of functionality when it came to empathy. Too much disqualified you from his line of work entirely. But right now, he was guessing the kid's lack of reaction was more from the accumulated trauma of growing up institutionalized. The kid had basically said as much himself — the difference was that now Novek had enough data points to agree.

  Novek's conclusion was that when push had come to shove, Nat still thought people could be reasoned with or someone else would fix the problem. Given a chance to eliminate the threat, Nat had deferred it, risking Novek's life in the process. So, Novek placed Nat firmly in the ‘will not pull trigger’ category that, frankly, most people occupied. No real surprise there — that was consistent with their prior discussion, and why the plan had the gun put in Ellie's hands. Ellie's life up till now had resulted in someone who didn't hesitate to believe someone when they threatened her. She pulled the trigger, and if she had reservations, she kept them to herself.

  Speaking of which, Novek decided to check on the results of some of his earlier work. “Did the knurling on the gun grip work out for you? I'll admit I didn't expect you to have a chance to test it out quite so soon.”

  Ellie glanced down at the coach gun nestled in its bench-mounted holster between them, “Worked great, I didn't have any issues holding it even after using my Talent.”

  “Well, I'm glad that worked well. I'll make a couple extra knurling tools so you can pick the rougher or finer hatch patterns to anything you might need to keep a solid grip on.”

  She raised an eyebrow while giving him a side-eye and snickered.

  “I'm serious, though. Well, at least right now.”

  “Oh, I can tell. All business, you. Until you're not. I find it interesting though — I've met some Ber'Duun with similar Skills, and they all can keep a hold on anything.”

  “Yeah, Ber—”

  “Are unfair, yes — I've heard.”

  Novek grinned, “Hey, at least I'm consistent.”

  Ellie rubbed her splinted arm distractedly, then winced, “I still wouldn't mind if the Talent adjusted for physiology the way Ber'Duun Skills do.”

  Lyn commented from within the coach, “It's not the skill, itself. It's the existing physiology or the bioengineering done to support it. Skills are tailored specifically to a subset of species, and most species only have access to a few as a result — the vast majority only have one. Talents are less powerful, but more generally applicable and available. Silverpaw have significantly more options than many races, but that's still only ten Skill packages total that I know of, whereas Humans — and to a lesser extent, Brin — have access to thousands of Talents. Also, not to intentionally deflect, but we should discuss destinations.”

  Novek turned to look at Ellie, “I get that you don't want to bring trouble to the Mill, but we're headed that way and there's safety in numbers.”

  Ellie sighed before answering, “I'd rather we kept going past the Mill itself. This isn't their fight and more than that — they aren't fighters. There are some less used roads further north, heading to the packlands, and two which lead to the wilds — one of which would bring us near a trading post. Personally, I don't want to intrude on the packlands — if we bring trouble their way, it might take years before I would be allowed access again — they have a long memory for those who would try to bring personal problems for them to resolve, unasked. But I'm open to everything at this point — because given the choice, being banned from the northern territory is preferable to death.”

  Novek considered before answering, “The difficulty I'm having is due to the fact that they had Ber, Brin, and Humans in that group. That muddies the waters on where it might be safe. I don't know the area as well as you, especially not the roads, but I think we pass the Mill and then head towards the wilds, towards an outpost. That would let us restock, and I could perhaps make some of the modifications we've discussed.”

  Lyn had moved into the closer seat to more easily hear and be heard from within the cabin, “What's the likelihood that those Brin had any relation to the Wehven creche? Could we ask for sanctuary, potentially in trade?”

  A dour look crossed Novek's face, unbidden. “Hard to say — I don't recall Wehven having much communication with Neke, but I'm a decade out of date. For some reason, I'm not the one who gets sent to coordinate with the monster factories.”

  Lyn leant into the snark, “Wait, the uplift conscript doesn't get sent to deal with the creches? You don't say.”

  Ellie turned and commented, “Most of them aren't bad — Wehven's a good place according to — well, everyone; They do supplemental Ber'Duun education, and Ber training as well.”

  Novek harrumphed, but did not want to give air to considering a creche for safety — that way lie dragons, potentially literally. He turned to face Lyn, “If it was only Humans and Brin, the wilds would be the best bet. But as you noted, they have a Ber'Duun with command Skills — that's your area, Lyn. What do you think?”

  Tapping their jaw with a pearlescent white finger, Lyn ruminated before answering, “That does complicate things. But Ceress is to the northwest on the border — and she might want to know that Trant is out there asking about her by name on behalf of someone.”

  Pulling his crossbow out, Novek started giving it a once-over while filling the bolt magazine, “Well — so the big question now is does this group think Ellie's with us? Would she be safer if she dropped us off and continued on her own? Come to think of it, how does this impact your scheduled rides, Ellie?”

  “I'm not kicking you out and heading off on my own tonight. They'll be looking for the coach — though I doubt they got a good look at it, and it's not that distinctive. If nobody has come looking for us by tomorrow, then I'm still planning on taking Tanner to the creche day after Tomorrow — that's further away so unless they're scouring the countryside, that should be safe. And, honestly, as long as none of you are in the coach I can always change into my rainy-season duster and claim ignorance of all of you troublemakers. Other than that, nothing else at the moment — and while I'd normally be biting my nails about that, even with having to restock spares and some of the gear we've abandoned, I'm fine for a few weeks even if I don't do daily rides — I may take a few days and head home to give my arm some time to heal. I had been hoping to save more of the Scrav windfall, but well — if I was saving it for unexpected emergencies, I think this qualifies.”

  Nat joined the conversation from within the coach, “You're welcome to some of mine, Ellie. I don't really understand money that well, and I don't have much I want.”

  “You're a kind, dear boy, but you don't even know what you might need, or how much it would cost. But I appreciate the offer, and if it comes to it, we'll talk.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “We could hunt some more Ber?”

  Novek chuckled, “That's true, we could. And it's what I do when I need walking around money, but there's a problem with that.”

  Nat moved to the seat near the slot, next to Lyn, “What's that?”

  “Almost all of our hunters are injured. Lyn's still got half a foot, Ellie has a freshly broken arm, and you get scorched every time you use your Talent for Ber. I've got some new bruises, though most of the damage is to my pride. It might seem like easy money but the thing to remember is this: one mistake in a fight with a Ber and someone can be maimed or killed. We have to fight almost perfectly every time, or the losses outweigh the benefits. The fights that are easy to win don't usually have high quality meat — anything that is easy pickings has already been picked, or else doesn't sell for much. That scrav was decades old if not more.”

  “Well, what could we do, then?”

  “Honestly, forget about it for now — we have money enough for any pressing needs, and we're on the run. Let's focus on solving our immediate problems, first. Even if something lucrative dropped in front of us right now, we couldn't safely take the time to fight, let alone butcher and transport it. There may still be people on the road behind us, even now. Those people travelled a long way, with expensive resources, to hunt us specifically.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. As much as I'd rather not admit it lest someone think less of me, I've been on the other side of those teams. They had a target list and they were working that list. That's why they went for Siya and the other Vodat, bagged me, and it's why they would have grabbed you if they'd realized what you could do in time.”

  Nat put his hands up on the slat, almost putting his nose through the small rectangular hole. “Wait, you, Siya, and me?”

  “Siya because Vodat are prized for two things — surveillance, and assassination. Me, because — well, if it wasn't obvious to everyone already, those Brin are third generation Tigers.”

  Lyn had clearly been holding their question, but since Novek had brought it up, they decided to ask, “How common are Tiger Brin?”

  “Ones that share that coloration? Around here? They're not.”

  “But they are somewhere else?”

  “There are… were, a number of us. My best guess is that those two we saw were… descended, from my pack.”

  Nat asked, “Wait, were? So, then where are your pack now?”

  “They're all dead — I'm the last.”

  “Why would the children of your pack attack us? Didn't they recognize you?”

  “Not their children, per se.”

  “I'm confused.”

  Lyn broke in, apparently deciding to save Novek some painful explanation, “They likely didn't choose to have the children, or if they did, the children were taken. And uplifted. As fighters.”

  Nat got that look on his face that Novek hated seeing when people talked about the realities of many Brin — the pity one. “Oh. Is that what you meant?”

  Novek hated that look — he didn't blame the kid for it, but he still hated seeing it. “Yeah. It is.”

  “I'm sorry, Novek.”

  “… Thanks, kid.”

  “Okay, so the last one though — why me?”

  “Nat, have you thought through what your Talent is capable of? Truly capable of?”

  The kid shrugged, “I mean, the way you say it — it's obvious the answer is no. I get that I can do a lot of damage if I'm not careful, but it doesn't seem more powerful than say, Ceress, or even you.”

  “Why did the Ber that could have hurt or killed all of us, simultaneously — sorry, Lyn — leave while he had the upper hand… hands? Whatever.”

  Lyn jumped in before Nat could answer, “First off, no worries — Trant's entire species is, as far as I know, intentionally built to ignore anything a Silverpaw can do. That also means that Moira would be of limited utility. They're nigh-immune to both electrical and aetheric capabilities. Second off, I'm still down a foot — it was no contest.”

  “Intentionally? That's a strange word to throw out there.”

  “It's most likely accurate — to the best of our knowledge, Elin'amen are intended to replace Silverpaw — actively, not passively. They've been heavily redesigned, recently.”

  Novek's eyes went wide open. “That, is a hell of a statement. Some days I wish I understood more about the politics surrounding you Ber, and other days I don't want to live on this planet.”

  “That makes two of us. We'll talk later though. Let's get back to deciding where we're going. Nat, Moira — any opinions?”

  I lack sufficient context to have a meaningful opinion on this, or I'd have said something earlier, but my priority is to keep Nat, and the rest of you, safe.

  Nat looked out into the air, “What? That's a strange thing to say.”

  But it's true. If I thought at this point you could hop off of the coach and avoid pursuit, I'd suggest that. But I think that now, Trant and others are going to be looking for you, so staying with the group is the best strategy.

  Lyn put a hand to their forehead, “While true, you should probably refrain from saying that out loud.”

  I'm stating my priorities. My help isn't entirely conditional, but things that align with my goals are more likely to convince me to lend more significant aid. I may not be embodied as you all are, but there is risk here for me, too.

  Novek shrugged dismissively, “I don't know about you, but I appreciate understanding the parameters of cooperation. That said, Moira — you were absolutely a great help, and put on an impressive display, but I assumed you could put out more firepower than that, from our earlier discussion.”

  This is going to sound unconvincing after the fact, but you have to understand that for me, the last second is more like the last millisecond. Let me demonstrate, if Nat is willing to spend a little time bored.

  “Eh, sure. If you tell me a story while we wait.”

  Deal. First, the normal demonstration. Throw something you don't care about up in the air, Novek, then catch it — lightly.

  He reached into a pouch and pulled out few failed caltrop experiments, and tossed it into the air. An aetheric flame lit around it the moment it left his hand, and followed the metal up, then back down — vanishing as he caught it, then quickly dropped it. “Ow, okay — that was a bit hot. So that's your basic ability, then?”

  Yep. Okay, Nat? As soon as Novek throws the next one, activate, please. Novek? Throw this one away from the coach, forcefully, please.

  Novek wound up his arm and threw the metal as hard as he could, given the awkward positioning on the bench.

  The metal got about ten meters away before Nat activated his Talent, at which point the caltrop shone white with heat and then exploded into glowing stars of molten metal that shot out and away from it.

  “And that's instant, eh?”

  For you, yes. Nat got a few chapters of fiction in return for waiting patiently. I'm not saying you weren't in any danger from Trant, but, if Nat was willing to let me handle it, you weren't in any danger. I may not be able to form a pattern within the bounds of his skin, but I could heat the air and cut his arm off before he could squeeze his fingers on your neck, if Nat timed it correctly — the danger was if he was frozen while it happened.

  A picture, drawn in aether, appeared in the air above them. A small bird of aether flew around, and a pinprick of flame appeared where it flew, as it escaped burning. So a hundred tiny flames sprouted, and the bird was caught and vanished in a puff of smoke. Then a larger bird replaced the smaller one, but this one simply ignored the chasing flame. The hundred flames appeared, and it ignored those, too. Then a single flame, as bright as the sun appeared, and the fake bird performed a dramatic dive to the ground, where it too, vanished in a puff of smoke and a pitiable ‘Ka-kaw!’.

  My patterns are static in space — all theronic patterns are. I effectively light a new fire a million times a second. If I move that fire, it's still only a tiny fire, just in a new place. As you see, I can also build many flames — but there's a problem in that there's only so much ‘fuel’ to go around and the more flames I make, the cooler they are, individually. Overall, it's still hotter than one, but many Ber can just shrug it off. I can build a larger fire, but the temperature is lower, on average per unit of space, just like the multiple fires. But those limits to theronic energy available? They are per unit of time. The Talent lets me turn those thousand flames into an inferno. For a large, unmoving target, like a city or a battlefield, I don't need a Talent.

  “Ah, I understand much better now. I know plenty of siege engineers with a similar limitation — well, wait, most Talents have that limitation, don't they? Oh, I get why you need Nat now.”

  Yeah, he doesn't have the only Talent that I can utilize to enhance my capabilities, but it is, undeniably, the most flexible.

  “Okay, wait, so why did you suggest I cut his fingers off?”

  Honestly? A few reasons. The first, because you wanted to be merciful, and it would be easier for him to reattach or regrow cut tissue than something that was cauterized with temperatures exceeding the surface of the sun. The second was that like Novek, I need to understand the parameters you're willing to operate under. Did you go straight to killing? Would you ask me to?

  Nat's voice sounded put out, “Wait, is this some sort of test?”

  Not the way you're thinking. It's more like a measurement. For instance, you left the Talent early, I understand one reason why — so he couldn't time your unfreezing — but that meant I didn't have time to build a pattern.

  His voice switched to contrite, and somewhat embarrassed, “That was part of it, yeah.”

  What was the other part?

  “Honestly? Because I didn't want to watch him burning alive, cognizant, but immobile, while his eyes pleaded with me to stop.”

  Ellie chose the moment to re-enter the conversation. “Okay, my turn. No. Nope, I'm out. I do not need to have nightmares about this. We're about to come up to a fork in the road, and if nobody objects in the next three seconds, I'm taking us towards the trading outpost, not the creche.”