Paul

They flew through dawn. With Daniel down for the count, they didn’t have a plan. Morale was in the pits.

:I take responsibility for this,: Rana sent from atop Cassie’s bat form. :I should’ve known the Night Domain would be more important than the high ground. We could’ve fought him anywhere during the day and done better.:

Cassie objected, :No, this is on me. I could’ve gotten us out of there when Daniel called for a retreat. Tesem’s howl didn’t even activate my danger sense, but I let him scare me. I’m a coward.:

:Please, don’t beat yourselves up,: Paul told them. He blamed himself. This power had cost him his Pathfinding magic, yet it didn’t make a difference in combat. He felt useless, weak, and foolish.

Lea gave them a diplomatic critique. :A tactician once said, ‘No plan survives first contact with the enemy.’ Now we know Tesem’s abilities, we can reflect on our performances and do better next time.:

:I performed flawlessly,: Kenta sent. :Though I suppose that wasn’t enough…:

:Wildling at 3 o’clock,: Cassie reported, jolting them from their misery.

No time to wallow in self-pity; the others needed both their Clairs on watch. Paul formed his telescope and lifted it to Kenta’s eye, zooming in on the area Cassie indicated. A blank sheet of rock on the side of a hill met his gaze. The instant before he dismissed the area and moved on, a spiderweb of hairline cracks broke the face of the stone.

The cracks widened into fissures and exploded as a massive drill bit, broad as an elephant, surfaced. The three spinning metallic tricone bits formed the three-jawed mouth of a giant burrowing worm studded with teeth.

:At least it can’t fly,: Paul commented, relieved.

At that moment, the worm’s mouthparts shifted into the wide spiral wing of a helical air screw—which looked frighteningly like some kind of primitive helicopter design.

:Paul,: Kent sent, :Don’t tempt fate.:

The air screw buzzed with indecision. Paul shot a warning blast at the worm, causing the monorail-sized Wildling to spring into the air after them—but he rejected that reality. Instead, he and the others passed overhead, fingers crossed. The worm did not pursue.

If nothing else, Actualizations helped him avoid his dumbest ideas.

They entered another world at the nearest node. Each minute put more distance between themselves and the Black Dog. Fields and valleys stretched below as Cassie announced, :There’s a battle!:

Lea responded, :It would probably be wise to avoid any conflict while our forces are diminished.:

:But she might get hurt if we don’t help—It’s kinda close.:

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:Who?: Wendi asked.

:The centaur girl,: Cassie sent with concern, preoccupied with the dilemma.

:A Sagittarius?: Rana sent, and Cassie gave a mumbled affirmative. While they deliberated, Cassie flew close enough to intervene if needed. Paul and Kenta soon found the scene through the telescope.

Below, a Wilding a few years older than them with waist-length blond hair tied in a single braid, fitted leather armor, and horse ears fled her pursuer. Her sleek brown equine half’s galloping speed put mundane animals to shame—though uncertain rocky terrain put her at a considerable disadvantage against a creature from the dreams of a truly demented wizard.

Eight lizard claws pulled the beast’s sagging belly across the ground, serrated tail whipping. On the left, a slavering canine snout with shell plating followed her scent while its eyestalks scoured the skies for enemies. On the right, a toothed beak on a scaled, serpentine neck darted forward and back, watching for an opening with lidless unblinking dark beads. Between them, its third head clicked an insectile maw in anticipation of sweet, soft flesh.

The centaur carried a wooden bow, belt quiver slung on leather straps, but her breathless panic showed how well the hunting tools had worked so far. Twisting her torso with the dense muscles of her merged human and equine halves, she nocked an arrow and shot at the wolf head. The beast’s beak snapped at the flying arrow on reflex and broke it like a twig.

:Watch out!: Cassie shouted in their heads, but the sending wasn’t set to reach the one who needed it most. It was Cassie’s involuntary cry, like the gasp of a moviegoer who’s seen the horror flick a dozen times but always jumps when the killer steps out of the closet. The bug head struck as the centaur leaped over a rock, cutting the haunch of a hind leg.

Kenta stated the facts plain, though his voice betrayed sympathy for the hunted girl. :The Black Dog isn’t far behind. If we stop to help, we’ll lose that lead. Dan is unconscious, and Wendi has to protect him, putting us two down. We’d be draining our waning energy and endangering ourselves for a stranger—Though a Kaminoke never runs from a good fight:

The centaur girl made the jump but landed poorly, limping as the beast closed in.

Shifting to humanoid, Paul formed a converging lens between outstretched hands and shot a concentrated chest laser. Distance weakened his strongest attack the way a flashlight’s beam dims when pointed at a far target. His magic failed to penetrate the beast’s thick hide or do more than distract the creature an instant. He rejected this Actualization as a waste of effort.

:We’re not actually going to leave her?: Wendi sent, confused. :We have to rescue that girl! She could die if we don’t! It’s who we are… isn’t it?:

Daniel wouldn’t have hesitated. Recalling Tesem’s echoing words, “How can you save me when you can’t save yourselves?” Paul’s heart ached for the struggling girl. They didn’t even know her name.

Cornered, back to a rocky slope unnavigable on three working legs, blood dripping from her flank, something snapped inside the centaur girl. She lifted her bow to the skies and started shooting. Arrow after arrow flew, peaked in its arc, and split. Each arrow multiplied like bacteria, splitting from two to four to eight as they rained down.

Through the telescope, Paul saw dozens of glowing crosshairs bloom on the beast—over eyes and joints and weak points in its armor. The arrows swooped low and swam around the darting beak to strike the creature’s vulnerable spots. The beast’s dark orbs sprouted feathered shafts, and its eyestalks were severed.

Blind, the creature thrashed in pain and hissed in a fury, but it could smell her. When the beak opened, arrows poured inside. The centaur kept firing as the wolf head’s sensitive nose was riddled with bolts. More shafts entered the insect maw, penetrating the depths of the beast’s chest. It stumbled once and fell, coughing blood from ruptured lungs, then quieted as its shattered heart ceased beating.

Alert, the centaur swung her strung bow to point at Cassie the bat circling above. Crosshairs blossomed on their skin like contagious chickenpox. Paul saw the centaur girl had those same deadly crosshairs in her pupils. Then the rage faded from her face, and the bowstring slackened.

They flew away, leaving the centaur behind. The crosshairs faded with time.

They completed the hour in silence. With Cassie exhausted, they landed to dismount. Boarding Kenta’s hair tank, she laid down to sleep. As they continued to flee, Paul thought about many things.