Cassie

I did drink, her blood the most bitter draught I’d ever tasted, but I drank enough to fly. I stood, and Wendi rose with an unconscious Daniel cradled in one arm. She’d looked a bit peaky after my draining her vitality. At least it hadn’t hurt with my analgesic saliva.

I woke a dozing Lea with a tender hand on her shoulder. :Rally the troops; we need to get moving.: I didn’t look her way; I didn’t want Lea to see I’d been crying.

Lea rose to her feet, smoothed the creases from her dress, and said, “Everyone, may I have your attention, please.” Kenta perked up from his highway hypnosis, and I felt gentle heat as Paul’s helmet eye slots opened. “Air-Cassandra is ready for takeoff. You may prepare yourselves for an In-Transit boarding.”

While the others left the hair tank and shifted into their traveling forms, I scaled the sky. High above, I released loud wracking sobs. At least I could finally breathe in the open air. Then I took a shape too animal for them to see the emotions on my face.

I felt strong and secure in my great bat form. I took comfort in my muscles, the wind, and the road ahead. Picking up the others on a low pass, we headed for a far node that could very well be our last one free.

I had no confidence left in us after losing the previous battle. We’d sacrificed hours of our lead to fight Tesem, and the Black Dog hadn’t slowed for lack of rest. Our sole chance lay in outdistancing him before we hit a dead-end or I drained the group dry. Again, the expense of maintaining my form at this size and carrying the others’ weight consumed a day’s worth of energy in an hour.

No matter Wendi’s strength, if I drained a week’s worth of vitality in seven hours, she’d feel it. Her innate toughness was impressive, but Daniel’s Ruinous aura didn’t cost her nothing. We’d be unable to move him if she tipped over the edge of weakness. Then we’d be stuck.

My mind wandered. We’d attracted so much attention flying through the Wilderness. I got automatic Auditions for immediate danger but not a list of potential threats in the area. With frustration, I registered the fact I hadn’t Listened properly since waking.

It’d been low on my priorities with nothing attacking us and pursuit drawing close. Now I had time to focus my mind on scanning the rocky cliffsides. I used radio waves to sweep over the terrain clockwise for an initial survey, following it with spotlights of shorter wavelength sound to image suspicious blips.

I detected movement at two o’clock and zeroed in.

It was a beast, slightly smaller than the one we’d fought after dealing with the mage trio. The landbound six-legged boar had rhino hide and two dozen eyes. I almost dismissed the threat when I noticed it following something. Probably a common animal. It didn’t seem relevant, but it cost me nothing to Listen.

I concentrated on the creature, hearing the branching paths of its future. In all of them, the beast caught its prey and killed it easily. Yet, the victim confused me.

A cross between a pogo stick and an umbrella hopping on one leg flapped its canopy to flutter onto a large rock. Then it transformed into a scarecrow with woven straw sandals to increase its running speed. It followed the cliffside, perhaps marveling at the natural wonders to distraction. A Wildling, and, by their size, a child.

At that point, I recognized their race, inorganic shapeshifters known to be on the weak side of the sliding scale from diminutive Therianthropes to angels and the Zodiac. The Tsuchi… suko… mono… To be honest, I didn’t remember their name at the time. I examined the kid more closely and noticed a strange flickering in his future path, the skipping of music on a scratched record. Probably one of their weird powers, I thought. It didn’t change the tragic outcome, delaying it by seconds.

I couldn’t imagine what business a kid this young had wandering alone in the Wilderness. I considered how a detour with Tesem hot on our heels would be the final nail in our coffin. I thought about Daniel’s coma and how we’d barely beaten the last beast. I remembered the horrible feeling of not being able to help the centaur girl, who’d nearly died but for a twist of fate.

All these things went through my head after I’d already changed course. This was no choice for me.

Never again.

I’d sworn a vow and was not about to screw up the very first test—especially with an orphaned child involved.

The change didn’t go unnoticed.

:Cassie,: Lea sent, :Where are we going?:

:Don’t worry about it, Lea.:

I haven’t mentioned this so far because you’re not supposed to know. At the same time, it’s a bit late in the game to be concealing every little detail like this on the tiny chance it might someday be used against me. I imagine you have similar limitations with your powers? In any case, don’t go spreading it around.

Chiropterans can’t hear their own futures due to feedback. Instead, I plan my actions around the future paths of those near me and fixed-point landmarks in the timeline I mentioned before. If I could base decisions on how my actions affected the decisions of others, the resulting matrix of predicted outcomes would either drive me crazy, or I’d never get anything done because of the continuous stream of updating Auditions.

You may ask how I’d not predicted the Wendigo’s plan when my self-preservation Audition should’ve gone on high alert. Well, Wendigo bound her killing intent to my reaction. I’m the hole in my predictions, after all.

The beast spotted the kid and charged.

:Have you thought this through?: Lea asked.

:I have, Lea.:

The kid finally saw the beast and fled.

The future unfolds from people’s nature. For instance, when a snake slithers from the bushes, your ‘fight or flight’ instincts depend on the distance and timing. The outcome varies. However, someone with a snake phobia runs away no matter the circumstances. That makes the conflict more predictable.

All that stuff to say, as I neared the scene, the possible futures of the beast and child converged. Anybody watching from the cliffs above could tell how things would play out. It was all but set in stone where the kid would run and when the beast would pounce.

:You seem to be headed towards a beast of some kind. Maybe you could reconsider your plan—which I am sure is very well thought out?:

:I know what I’m doing, Lea.:

The beast’s future crystalized; I knew precisely where it’d be when I arrived—provided it didn’t see me coming and change its primitive mind. Fortunately, the little piggy wasn’t expecting anything to come from above with all those rocks and boulders around to make things difficult.

:Those appear to be sheer cliffs we are diving toward. Now might be a good time to slow down or, perhaps, pull up?:

:It’s under control, Lea.:

:Hey, Cassie, why’s the ground so close?: Wendi sent in distress.

“What the heck are you doing, Cas?” Kenta shouted into the wind, panic in full bloom.

I dove like a falcon for its prey, and the wind tore at us.

:Kenta, pull Wendi and Daniel onto my back. I’m going to need my claws free.:

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:You don’t have claws!: he replied even while following directions.

I ignored him. I had to; I was onto something. I knew better than he did I was no falcon, how useless my ‘claws’ were—that physical weakness is the reason bats hang upside down, catch bugs and frogs with their mouths, and why I always take off from the ground in humanoid form.

In my full bat shape, regardless of size, my legs couldn’t support my weight. I should’ve been going in headfirst, but as I extended my legs in preparation, it felt right.

Something had changed.

:Is that a Tsukumogami?: Rana sent.

:Well, don’t harm the child!: Kenta advised, no doubt feeling the intensity of the energy rushing through my body.

I didn’t aim for the kid. In those last seconds, as the massive razor tusks came within a few feet of their intended victim, I aimed for the beast.

To be honest, I didn’t know what I expected. In that moment, my cheeks were wet with tears, but it wasn’t sorrow filling my heart. In that moment, my veins were hot, but it wasn’t blood I thirsted for. I wasn’t even paying attention as the beast saw us too late to evade me.

In that moment, I Listened to the child’s future path. It stopped dead in one more step, the kid’s last. This was their fixed point. Their fate. Time slowed to a halt as my weak claws grasped the scruff of the boar’s neck and the hide on its back.

It was funny how I’d blindly come this far without planning what to do when I got here. If I’d gone for the child instead, would we have escaped alive or been torn apart? Here and now, what was I supposed to do?

Was I a fool for trying to alter fate, for listening to my heart?

No.

In that moment, I changed.

I heard the kid’s dead-end of a future crack open and expand infinitely in all directions. Hope filled my heart, and it was the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted. Hope was what I thirsted for, but it was something I had to make for myself.

I poured all my power into my wings. As time resumed its frantic course and momentum carried me forward, I felt my legs extend taught to their limit. My grip anchored me to this elephant-sized boar beast with little chance of moving it, but if I didn’t, the kid was a goner. I beat my wings and prayed inertia didn’t rip my body in two.

My flapping lifted the beast into the air and pulled it along with me. The force strained my wings, but the beast’s weight on my legs was incredible. Yet, despite the pain, my flesh held. I beat my wings again, aiming for the rock wall of the cliffside, and again to steady myself, and again to reach full speed.

The beast thrashed in my grasp, using all its might to dislodge itself, but my claws held tight. At the last possible second, I pulled up to fly vertically parallel to the cliff face and released the beast. Momentum slammed the creature into the unforgiving rocks, and then gravity took hold. I peeled away from the cliffside and soared over the scene as the beast hit the ground with a crunch.

It did not rise.

I landed nearby, shifting to my humanoid form a few feet above the ground to let the others dismount. Standing, I saw what had changed. Comparing myself to Rana, I realized I’d grown six inches in a moment—all in the legs. My ankles now ended in an impressive set of claws. They were longer and far stronger than my old leg-hands with wicked-sharp talons. I instinctively recognized the claws of the fish-eating bat, myotis vivesi—built for catching, holding, and carrying slippery prey.

The shock of discovery dislodged me from that state of mind, and I reverted to my smaller leg-hands. Great, I thought, Now I have to figure out how to transform back. The form of the fish-eating bat surpassed my current one, the common pipistrelle, in every aspect. Even with just the claws, I’d be capable of feats previously impossible. It was no surprise those claws had been up to the task with their attributes amplified by my form enlargement.

The others gathered around the fallen beast, ready to fight an unneeded battle. Paul approached the creature with confidence. All his movements seemed deliberate since his change, and he spoke with an odd degree of certainty.

“Broken back. It’s dead.”

What puzzled me then was how I’d known what to do without a plan. Had it been instinct? It sounds silly to say, but I’d felt aligned with the rightness of the world. I struggled to recapture the sensation in vain.

Besides, the kid was getting away.

:Rana, we’re going after the child,: I sent, and she nodded in reply. While she slime-skated over rocks and gravel, I flew inches above the terrain in humanoid form, leading the way with my echolocation.

Soon he—he ran like a boy and acted like one—was in sight for Rana, and she put on a burst of speed. The Tsukumogami continued to flicker as if on fast-forward, the baffling ability seeming to amplify the shoe magic that increased his running speed. However, he couldn’t outrun us.

Rana slid past, skating backward while flawlessly navigating the rough ground without looking to put the kid between the two of us. Her new Clair powers? He had to stop or risk running into her and maybe get clotheslined for his trouble. I landed a dozen feet distant, not intending to make a grab at him as I preferred to leave these things to her.

I studied the boy. Judging by height, he’d be nine or ten years old. In this form, his body was a scarecrow of rice straw dressed in linen rags with simple woven sandals, a straw hat, and a straw raincoat. He turned to put both of us in sight of his button eyes, then transformed. His left arm became an umbrella he brandished at Rana as a rapier, and his right turned into a heavy monkey wrench he menaced in my direction.

I examined the seams where straw became metal. His level of control impressed me—partial transformation was a sign of form proficiency. Using three at once at such a young age, even weak forms, meant the boy was unspeakably talented.

“Come at me, both at once,” the boy shouted. “I’m not afraid to die, and I won’t go down easy!” The Rosetta stone translated his strange tongue.

:I can pin the boy,: Rana sent.

:No!: I replied, :Don’t hurt him!:

I tried calming the kid. “Easy, we just want to talk! Nobody wants a fight; we came here to save you. Release your weapons, and we can do this peacefully.”

He scoffed at me. “Why should I believe anything you say? You’re outsiders!”

:Outsiders?: I asked Rana. She shrugged.

I thought about Tesem closing in while we stood here talking. My earlier stunt nearly wiped me out, but if I took blood from Wendi, we might reach the next node in time. However, what was the point if we didn’t rescue the boy we’d saved?

“Listen up, kid, do we look like monsters to you?” I said. “We’re in a hurry, but we sacrificed our time to bail your butt out of trouble—and you’re not the least bit grateful? Now, you’re welcome to stay here and get killed by the next beast wandering along, or you can come with us and survive.”

He shook his head. “I’m not leaving, but I suppose there’s a chance you’re not lying. Very well, fight me one-on-one, fair and square. If I win, you’ll take your goons and leave. If you win, I’ll believe you.”

I was quite confused. “Goons?—Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would you believe me if I beat you?”

He rolled his eyes. “The good guy always wins in a fair fight. Truth prevails over falsehood, and good triumphs over evil; that’s just how the universe works. I’ll lose if I’m supposed to lose.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Who was this kid? “There’s so much wrong with what you said I don’t even know where to start. No, I do—what if the beast had killed you? What’s good about that?”

“Something would have saved me in the end. Maybe I could have gotten away by myself.” Of all the arrogant bull—I thought, but he went on. “In any case, it’s time to fight.”

I wasn’t as eager. “Wouldn’t you rather fight Rana? She’s way tougher than me.”

The boy laughed. “Nice try, but she’s not the one who killed the boar. You’re the scary one and clearly the leader.”

Me?—Scary?—Leader?

:Hurry and kick his butt so we can leave,: Rana sent.

“Now introduce yourself and bow. I’m Tarō Tsukumogami, at your service.” He bent at the waist without keeping his eyes on me. Naive. The thing was, I know I’d been just as bad not so long ago, maybe worse. A demon attack, three years of imprisonment, and a year in the Wilderness can change your perspective.

“Cassandra Chiroptera,” I said and curtsied as best I could with my wings in the way.

When I finished, Tarō raised his head and charged my way, wrench and umbrella in hand. I wasn’t confident of my chances if things came to blows, so I sucked in a breath and charged my Noise Blast. With our time limit, I’d have to end it fast.

I aimed at where he’d be on his next step and fired. I’d forgotten about the flicker, and the boy skipped ahead on his future path like a small teleport. I missed, and Tarō closed the distance. I’d underestimated him. Even flapping back and up, I’d be unable to evade as he was practically on top of me already. I panicked, lashing out with a kick.

My leg phased from hand to claw for a mere moment to hit Tarō’s chest. My kick sent him crashing to the ground. Though the straw didn’t weigh much, his momentum must’ve made the blow hurt. The impact broke his focus, and his arms returned to normal.

I gasped when I saw what I’d done and landed at his side to check the damage. Three huge gashes tore his shirt, and pieces of straw spilled out, but the ‘wounds’ repaired themselves in the way of Paul’s waxen body.

The linen sewed itself together as Tarō rolled over and rose to his hands and knees. He bowed from that position until his forehead touched the ground, saying, “My apologies for doubting your good intentions, Cassandra. I was told not to trust outsiders, especially those of strange races, so I had to test you. Will you forgive my rudeness and permit me to aid you?”

:Great,: Rana sent. :Now let’s get moving, the others approach.:

When I think about it, if nothing else, Tarō’s ‘test’ did prove one thing. We cared enough to at least try convincing him instead of forcing the boy along. In the end, that kindness saved us.

“Yes,” I said. Tarō looked at me with a warm smile, pleased and excited. The scarecrow unraveled as Tarō transformed into a floating bolt of cloth. He darted at me, and I flinched as he wrapped around my neck—too startled to scream.

Rana zipped forward to rip him off and stopped. I wasn’t being choked. Instead, I had a new scarf. It, I mean… He was pretty comfortable. Tarō adjusted his positioning to not impede my wings while keeping me warm and shielding my skin from the wind.

“What did you say about being in a hurry?” he asked. The free end of the scarf floating near my head showed the impression of a speaking face on its surface.

“We’re being chased by a group of black-cape mages. They’ll be here soon, so we have to go now,” I said, though our chances of escape were next to nil.

Tarō shook his ‘head.’ “I told you before, I’m not leaving.” I sighed and prepared for another argument, but what he said next surprised me, “And neither are you.”