Novek shook his head, and took a few steps towards the coach to wake Ellie. He need not have bothered, as he came around the side, he saw that she had opened the door slightly and was surreptitiously watching the proceedings, with what looked like the coach gun leaned against the inside wall. He certainly couldn't blame her for being cautious around unknown Ber at this point.

  Lyn glanced his way — clearly they wanted his opinion on whether the request should even be entertained. He gave a non-committal shrug — might as well hear them out. The odds that they were the vanguard for a group of assassins wasn't exactly high. Though, in truth, it wasn't zero, either — he'd learned the hard way that it was never zero.

  With a slight nod of acknowledgment, Lyn turned their gaze back to Rezzan. “Say we say yes, what are you offering by way of compensation?”

  “One moment. The offer is only for you. No-one else. Your friends can await you here, or somewhere else nearby.”

  “These are not friends — the boy is my ward, where I go, he goes — this is non-negotiable. Novek there, the Brin — is my bodyguard. It is unlikely you have anything I might want that would make me consider leaving myself unprotected, especially while I am still weak from my own healing.”

  “I noted the limp — though you appear whole. Is the injury beyond your capabilities?”

  “I'll admit it's been a rough week, regenerating an entire foot from a scrav attack.” Lyn's words had that tone of theirs, Novek could feel the setup — that poor bird had no idea what they were in for if this was how this negotiation was going to go.

  The clackaw turned and looked at the sky — Novek guessed it was their version of an eye roll — before they responded, “Surely you exaggerate.”

  “Of course I do. An entire missing foot in five days? Preposterous, even for a Silverpaw. It's been six days as of dusk tonight.”

  Ah, there it was. Lyn might not be entirely Novek's cup of tea, but when it came to verbal jousting, he felt that there were things he could learn from them.

  Rezzan waited a moment before they resumed the negotiation — and Novek was certain this was just dickering over the price. For all the bird's attitude, he could almost smell the desperation.

  “Perhaps you are the healer we seek, then. Is this replicable for non-Silverpaw?”

  “Less so, of course, unless your species has successfully hidden something significant from the other Ber for an aeon.”

  “No more than Silverpaw have, I'd wager. But with regard to healing, no, we are very much middle-of-the-pack.”

  “Then temper your expectations somewhat — though I would myself wager that you will find our capabilities beyond all except the particularly Skilled.”

  “Alas, few Skilled healers remain in the region — they are almost universally aether sensitive. Only those unfortunates, like us, remain in this forsaken desert.”

  Nat scrunched his face at that, “Oh, it's not that bad. Humans get along just fine here.”

  “No offense meant — I was being literal. The cataclysm forced the Ber'Duun to flee the entire southern half of the continent over a century ago. Thus, the ease of Human occupation.”

  His expression immediately went neutral, and he flushed slightly. “Oh.”

  For his part, Novek was glad to stay out of this back and forth and let Lyn handle it. This whole conversational pissing match just wasn't his style. He wondered if he could signal to Nat that he should just sit back and listen? Probably not. Oh, well — at least it'd be entertaining.

  Lyn picked up the trailing thread to get things back on track. “So, since we're still talking, I assume you accept the accompaniment of the other two. Let's discuss compensation. My price is messages — at least three, north and their responses. The first within three days of your mother returning to the skies.”

  “How far north? The number will be commensurate with distance — and results.”

  Gesturing emphasis, Lyn ignored the trailing dig, “Close to the pole. And a single courier, or at least from your same flight. No outsiders, no transmission or relay to another flight.”

  “The poles are neither a trivial distance nor a hospitable region, even for us. We will want a demonstration of your capabilities before we will agree to that price.”

  “Let's finish the discussion first, as a demonstration can only happen if everything else aligns. For now, assume that we agree, and proceed from there — what's next?”

  “We will provide you directions. You should be able to meet us there in only a few hours if you depart just after dusk.”

  “Tonight is not possible. We might need to arrange transport, depending on the destination.”

  “Pardon? What stops you from boarding your vehicle and departing?” The clackaw waved a wing at the coach.

  Ellie chose that moment to open the door, but did not exit fully, and instead sat on the sideboard, “The coach is mine. And it's not going anywhere tonight. Both the horses and I are in desperate need of rest. Regardless, you'll have to negotiate with me separately.”

  “Ah, we had mistakenly assumed you were a singular group, given the circumstances.” Rezzan turned to the smaller clackaw, and made a noise that was recognizably chiding.

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  “I'm just finishing up transport for this group. I was leaving for some scheduled carriage work elsewhere in the morning — I can bring them to where another coach might be hired, or relay a message to have one meet here.”

  “The matter is urgent — we would like to hire your conveyance. We will, of course, compensate you well for any lost business, but the matter is more critical than ferrying some local farmers to and fro.”

  “Details first. I'll need to know roughly where I'm going.”

  “You will need to travel somewhat east, to a crossroads at a nearby mill. From there, take a second road back towards a nearby creche. Once there, we will provide additional instructions.”

  Nat started to speak, but Ellie shot him a look that Novek translated roughly as ‘Quiet, Nat. Don't ruin this for me.’ For once, he got the message, and closed his mouth — the words unsaid. The look did not escape Rezzan's observation.

  “The boy and driver —”

  “Ward”, Lyn corrected, simultaneously as Ellie interjected with “Master”.

  “Ward and Master,” Rezzan nodded and continued, “— shared a look. Explain.”

  Lyn shrugged, “Ellie — the coach master, was already headed to the mill, and then on to the creche. She simply wants one of life's simple joys — to be paid twice for the same work.”

  Nat, who had almost burst out with the compulsion to say something, let it out the moment it was no longer a secret. “Tanner was already going to the creche with his pups. We'll get to see them!”

  “That's more innocuous than I'd imagined, but the guileless ward is convincing.”

  Nat's enthusiasm apparently wouldn't be dampened so easily — he was still smiling after his brief confession. “Oh. Thanks, I guess?”

  Novek sighed and immediately went to gather his tools, as well as tell Ellie they'd need to sleep outside the coach. He'd need to work through the night to make sure the coach was prepared for whatever trouble this was going to bring.

  Nat was excited — he was going to get to see Tanner's pups — and a creche! This was the best week, ever. Lyn and Rezzan continued their overwrought negotiation while he continued pouring tea for the smaller clackaw, who like him were trying their hardest to not catch sideways disapproving glances. Clearly they'd screwed up a thing or two.

  Lyn was now in full interrogation, wait, no make that detail-gathering mode. “On to details relevant to healing — your broodmother — are they overnighting somewhere safe, or is the area itself dangerous? Can they fly at all, or are they grounded?”

  Rezzan cocked their head to one side, focused on Lyn, “They are… grounded, and would not likely be able to maintain altitude with their injuries.”

  “And their overall health? Is your flight at risk of starvation?”

  “Not immediately, she can still produce only a small amount of crop milk, and to do so hinders healing. The youngest of the brood may fail if this situation goes overlong.”

  “We'll focus on correcting that concurrent with the other healing efforts, then. I can formulate a suitable synthetic if you can approximate a suitable nutritional balance.”

  “Another question for you, please; What gave away that our mother is grounded?”

  “Your brothers flew west, not up. If the broodmother was at altitude, there wouldn't have been any need for that.”

  “Ah. Of course. Like you knowing you were summoned; a mistake we will not repeat. Alas, my wing-brothers and I are new to this.”

  “Also, You keep saying the wing? What about the rest of your flight?”

  “They are considering… alternative opportunities. Nezzar — the lead of the other wing — and I are not in agreement.”

  “So, new to this — then your mother is not available for you to consult with, but they're not far. You're no male; why can she not communicate with you? Are they being held hostage — why can you not ask them aetherically?”

  “You know far too much about us, silverpaw. She is no hostage, but cannot leave and must remain isolated — you may have noted the recent dissonant pulses from the schism? They are the cause of the injury, and a complicating factor in the attempt to leave. That is our concern, and solvable once she is capable of ascent. Which brings me to my next question. The Brin — his markings are very… distinct. We've encountered some like him recently. But here you are, hiding behind a rock, instead of brazenly strutting about, growling threats. Who is he?”

  Novek, never one to be talked about when he was right there, decided to answer — loudly — from where he was preparing to set to work on the coach.

  “I'm the last of the second generation. They're the third.”

  “And what is your relationship to them?”

  “To avoid any further follow-up questions, I'll be specific; they are the offspring of my ambush — my hunting pack — but they are not part of the streak — the familial pack.”

  “Ah. An all too common story, among both Brin and Ber. Do the children know you? And what do you think of them?”

  Novek's eyes narrowed. “It's interesting that you ask that. I only just met them yesterday. They tried to kidnap or kill us. Now answer me a question — why do you care?”

  “Our other wing is in discussions with a group that has, among its members, a number of these Brin. Their offers for healing come with… a number of conditions — ones which we do not find palatable.”

  “Oh. Well, Lyn, for my part, I am now very interested in this job.”

  Lyn knocked once in affirmation, “Noted. So this group with the Brin like Novek — they're the ones talking to your other wing?”

  “Yes. They have among them a Ber commander, and at least one Skilled healer. But to take their help would almost indenture our entire flight. Thus, why we seek alternatives.”

  “So, you've talked to Trant, then?”

  “Yes. We find him insufferable.”

  Snorting in an aborted laugh, Lyn regained their composure before responding, “I believe we are going to get along just fine. We are absolutely for hire. Let's talk details.”

  “One last thing remains. Be truthful — what Talent does the boy have that would allow a Ber and Human to speak at range?”

  “It's complicated. It's not up to me to divulge the details.”

  Rezzan turned and fixed Nat with their eyes. “Not up to you? Ward — Nat, what Talent is this? Human Talents are notoriously incompatible with our own.”

  Nat had the urge to glance at Lyn or say something to Moira, but managed to control both impulses. “I'm not sure that I can tell you. Sorry.”

  Turning back towards Lyn, Rezzan's voice took on an exasperated tone, “How could it be that neither he, nor you, can divulge…” The clackaw stopped cold, and squinted. Their posture turned formal, and defensive. “Is he an avatar? Who rides you, boy?”

  Nat was confused at this sudden turn in the conversation. “Nobody's riding me. What a weird thing to ask.”

  Rezzan snapped to Lyn, “That's no response an agent would give — no haughty dismissal or following threat. Is he still in training? Why do you have possession of him? You're either in league with a creche, or about to be very, very dead. You cannot hide him, you know.”

  Lyn's voice lost some of the jovial tone it had gained late in the conversation. “I'll ask you to wait for the whole answer.”

  “So, yes, then. I think perhaps our search will have to continue elsewhere — we cannot risk the wrath of the agents.” Nat was fairly certain this was not a negotiating tactic — Rezzan had already turned and started signalling the other clackaw.

  Lyn was not to be deterred, however, “Before you fly off — I'll ask you this; Do you recognize the name Moira?”

  Moira's voice was quiet in his ear — Moira was improving at these timely asides. Nat, put out your hand, palm up, please.

  Rezzan, meanwhile, had paused their gestures to the other clackaw and turned to look at Nat, as he raised his hand towards them, “I do not.”

  A twenty centimeter white-blue ghost of a female Human form appeared, standing upon Nat's extended hand, waving at Rezzan.

  Well, let's rectify that. Hi! I'm Moira, agent extraordinaire. Literally. I mean that. I am absolutely not ordinary.