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A Fistful of Dust
89. Wildling Confrontation

89. Wildling Confrontation

Paul

At a nearby planetary node, their Portal Ring opened a window into a lush green world of forests and grass-covered hills. Paul the lantern swung in the breeze from a strand of Kenta’s hair as Cassie soared over shady valleys. He felt grateful the Kaminoke didn’t insist on sharing senses through their Tool bond.

:The road divides,: Cassie the giant bat sent to the group. :There’s an opening to a red bubble hall to the east and an exposed node a little bit further away to the northwest. Which way should we go?:

:Which path is more dangerous?: Daniel asked from his perch in Wendi’s grip. The young angel’s tone had a slight acidity Paul didn’t understand.

Dismissing a spread of dialogue options that ranged from probing to offensive, Paul held his peace as Cassie replied, :I can’t answer that. There’s no way I can weigh every—: She stopped and mentally sighed. :Just ask Paul where to go.:

What was that about?

He sent a quick and easy answer that avoided direct lying, :We go northwest.:

Cassie dipped a wing and turned to fly over a lengthy stretch of hills. He considered how his fib avoided a pointless argument that couldn’t possibly be productive. They trusted him. They knew he’d steer them right, so why bother Cassie?

Theoretically, Cassie’s Clairaudience should be able to get a good idea of which path posed the bigger threat. However, from his experience with Clair abilities, he guessed the bat girl’s Auditions didn’t present information in the black-and-white way Daniel demanded.

It’d become Paul’s pet peeve. No one understood how difficult Clair abilities were. Paul glanced at Cassie’s bat form and imagined running his fingers through the hair beneath him in sympathy.

Except, the idle thought became an Actualization as his lantern body shifted to humanoid. His hard metal hands glided over the soft fur, feeling the suppleness of the flesh beneath by its yielding under slight pressure. Paul’s mind recoiled from the experience, discarding the Actualization, but the experience clung to his mind like grease he couldn’t rinse away.

He had no idea how Cassie would have responded to that scenario. The consequences of the action hadn’t been immediately apparent, but the fact she wasn’t aware of what he’d done—or, rather, what he’d imagined doing—felt like getting away with something. It was invasive, wrong, a taste of an intimacy that didn’t exist.

Since they happened quick as thought, getting his unintentional Actualizations under control wasn’t easy in the best of situations. They were especially mischievous around Cassie—her kiss still burned his mind though it’d merely been a peck on his waxen cheek.

Paul guessed Cassie’s ability to Hear possible futures might let her sense the options he wasn’t taking, but from what she’d told him, her Auditions’ clarity peaked in times of peril. She probably wouldn’t have any idea what went on in his unused Actualizations unless he imagined k—

He stopped this line of thinking hard before it could go any further with a jarring shift of mental focus. Don’t think about turnips. Don’t think about turnips. He thought of turnips and was safe.

:Wildlings ahead,: Cassie sent to the group.

:Are any of them a threat?: Rana asked.

:Only if we come down; they can’t fly.:

Daniel seemed curious, :Where are they?:

:Coming up on your 10 o’clock. Too far to see for another minute.:

He wasn’t sure about that. Paul hadn’t lied before about having ‘telescopic vision.’ During his rebirth, Paul gained some intuitive knowledge about lenses, sizing, and proportions for focusing light. If he aligned a convex lens (the larger, the better) to capture and converge photons with a concave eyepiece lens to magnify the image, he could make a simple telescope.

Paul opened the minimum channel necessary to borrow the Kaminoke’s sight. Then, at his instruction, a pair of glass lenses on jointed rods sprouted from his lantern top. The simple mechanical arms lifted his ‘telescope’ to Kenta’s eye, adjusting the size, length, and lens curvature through dozens of Actualizations. It took more effort to make the telescope than to find the Wildlings.

Near a boundary of forest and meadow, Paul and Kenta saw two Cervitaurs—deer centaurs—talking to a shepherdess with her flock.

The hart had an impressive set of antlers and an equally impressive set of muscles; his abs, pectorals, and biceps rippled with strength. A powerfully built animal-half gracefully blended into his humanoid torso. Reddish-brown curls matched the glossy fur on his flanks. He went bare-chested apart from an armband and a bone necklace with a red plaid kilt covering his hindquarters.

A preteen Cervitaur girl with bright red hair quivered at his side. Her lean frame was built for sprinting through deep forests. She wore a lace-trimmed leaf-green bodice over a blouse with long white sleeves and a tartan skirt on her deer half that didn’t restrict her legs. The father-daughter pair both had cervine ears and human faces.

The centaur man argued with an Aries, looking down at her with arms folded. The sheep girl glared up at the big buck with solid sureness, conversing on an equal, if angry, footing. She brandished the shepherd’s crook in her hand like a powerful instrument.

In her middle teens, the shepherdess had a streamer of windblown blond hair, curling ram horns, alert ovine ears, and a fluffy tail. She stood on cloven hooves with feminine legs covered in thick white fleece like leggings. Her cornflower blue top and decoratively embroidered woolen skirt gave her an innocent air.

At her back grazed a flock of a hundred sheep.

Paul wondered what they were arguing about. To his knowledge, Wildlings were mostly solitary or small family units like those Cervitaurs. Enemies would fight until the weaker group fled; no need for conversation. This meant these groups were, if not friendly, at least at a cease-fire.

He increased the magnification and clarity of the telescope.

Paul thought it odd a father would allow their child so close to a stranger. Now he saw the fawn quivered not with fear but excitement, looking at the Aries with something between admiration and awe. The Cervid girl barely controlled her urge to frolic while glowing a soft aura of gleeful magic. Grass flourished around her, flowers turned to follow her sunny face, and saplings randomly sprouted from the fecund soil beneath her hooves.

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Movement caught Paul’s eye, and he saw a figure in the shade he hadn’t noticed at first. A roundish satyr overseeing whatever minor dispute this must be sat there, foot kicking idly. Massive boar tusks and a handlebar mustache rode above a working man’s barrel chest. The Suid had animal ears and legs, though he wore green lederhosen with pride.

It dawned on Paul they’d stumbled across some kind of loose Wilding alliance.

:There they are,: Wendi sent, spotting them from a distance, and Paul reabsorbed the telescope.

Before he could contemplate how alike this group was to his own, the Cervid hart caught sight of Cassie flying overhead. The response was quick and well-trained. Father grabbed daughter by the arm and led her into the forest in two swift bounds. The boar satyr shifted into animal form, growing in size until he rivaled an eighteen-wheeled truck.

The great boar followed them into the forest to shield the fawn with his girth, and Paul saw something extraordinary. As the creature entered the woods, the trees and bushes bent and parted for the charging swine as if made of rubber—elastically rebounding to their original shape behind him.

They left no trail. Not even hoofprints in the soil. The forest swallowed the three as if they’d slipped beneath the waves of an ocean.

:What was that?: Daniel sent, stunned.

:Woodwalking,: Rana replied. :Lots of races can do it; anyone born to the forest who learns to tread lightly.:

:I don’t think tiptoeing can explain this,: Wendi added.

One Wilding stood their ground, the Aries. The ram-horned Ovid planted the butt of her shepherd’s crook in the dirt while the others fled. The hundred sheep assembled behind her in military rows and columns; this was no ordinary flock. Grim resolve filled her square-pupil eyes.

:Can we go any higher, Cassie?: Rana sent. :I’d hate to have to fight her. She’s probably much more dangerous than she appears.: Of what little lore Paul remembered, this was true of all the Zodiac. Leanan was a Libra, and Wendi a Capricorn. He’d certainly be afraid of those two if they weren’t on his side.

Eager to prove her good intentions, Cassie rose higher as she passed over the Aries. None of the Wildlings pursued them.

:Should we have asked for help?: Daniel sent, too late to try anything.

:Did you hit your head?: Kenta asked, :First off, did you see how badly we scared them? How were we supposed to convince them we’re friendly, riding around on a giant bat with a Caprid, a Libra, and an Angel of Ruin? Second, why should they help us?:

Though he didn’t say it, Paul agreed with Kenta. If they somehow involved that family in their troubles and the fawn got hurt… he didn’t know if he could forgive himself. Besides, it would take a considerable effort to convince the other group they had no ill intentions. Living in the Wilderness turned good people into skeptics.

Daniel wasn’t satisfied, :It couldn’t have hurt to ask. We should have explained ourselves as we flew by.:

:That’s up to you, Daniel,: Rana sent. :Though I’d be careful who I ask for help.:

In the distance, Paul glimpsed movement and brought the telescope around to focus on a roving beast. A segmented tail tipped with a scissoring claw, hump-backed, dirty rodent teeth, beady eyes, ropes of matted hair, and thick antlike legs made the beast a disgusting terror. Apparently, Cassie hadn’t thought it worth mentioning, as the creature lacked wings.

:Beast at 9 o’clock. Maybe Daniel could sweet-talk it,: Kenta said, pretending to be helpful. :Who knows; it might be friendly.:

:Very funny,: Daniel sent.

Paul didn’t expect to see anything else of note as they flew over the forest, leaving him surprised when Cassie sent them another message, :Careful of our 2 o’clock.:

Exploring the region with the telescope, Paul found a log cabin and a broad-shouldered lumberjack at work. The completely regular-looking human wore flannel and jeans. How could an average woodsman survive in a forest with beasts and Wildlings? Another moment of watching answered his question.

With a single swing of his axe, the man cut through an eighty-foot-tall tree. Its fall shook the land, and the crash echoed through the forest. This was followed by Daniel’s shocked exclamation, :Whoa, what! The tree’s alive!:

:What are you talking about?: Wendi sent.

Daniel explained, :I can see it from here! When the axe cut the tree, it didn’t kill any plant cells or even stop the sap flowing through the trunk! That axe isn’t a weapon, it’s some kind of spatial magic—if it cut you into pieces, you’d live, and it probably wouldn’t even hurt!:

Inspecting the log cabin, Paul saw his friend was right. Planks and boards grew after they’d been cut into interlocking pieces. Sprigs of new leaves sprouted from the walls in several places, making for excellent non-magical camouflage.

As the axe man prepared to chop apart the trunk into usable pieces, he noticed Cassie’s aura. No one spoke as he turned to watch them fly overhead in a moment of indecision. Then the man’s face, magnified in the sight of Paul’s telescope, frowned in anger. He hefted high a hatchet from his belt. In the lumberjack’s hands, this Tool enlarged to a startling eight-foot length.

The weight should’ve broken his back, and indeed he bent till the tip near touched the ground. Then, spitting in the face of physics, he threw it in a full-body contortion. End over end, the hatchet accelerated as it flew towards them—adjusting its direction midflight to stay on target. Panicked flashbacks to earlier in the day when an explosion of Wind knocked them out of the sky buzzed through Paul’s mind.

Then Daniel threw a punch.

Gathering his last lingering scraps of power after their earlier battles, Daniel launched a fist of Ruin at the flying axe. Except, when the two met, the entire party gasped as the hatchet cut through Daniel’s magic and sped onward undeterred. The two halves of Daniel’s projected fist split apart without an ounce of their strength diminished.

Paul hadn’t imagined anything could withstand a direct confrontation with Ruin magic, but this Tool cleverly evaded the problem. Unfortunately, they were on the receiving end, and there was nothing he could do. Whatever Daniel failed to accomplish was undoubtedly far beyond any of Paul’s capabilities. Trying to bridge that gap was a waste of effort.

No! He couldn’t allow himself to think like that ever again. He’d lost his Pathfinding powers, but he wouldn’t be a burden. He had to be useful. He had to think of an idea.

A quick Actualization confirmed a beam of light aimed at the hatchet would be fruitlessly split. He’d never seen magic so indomitable. Yet, there must be a way around that axe blade—and then he had it!

Shifting to humanoid form caused Cassie the giant bat’s flight to dip from his weight, and Kenta caught him in a hair net before he fell off. Paul formed a polished metal mirror the size of a dinner plate in his hand and threw it.

Dozens of possibilities presented themselves to Paul, each a different scenario of angle, applied strength, and technique. Of them, nine-tenths were poor throws buffeted by the wind, hit the hatchet dead-on, or widely off-mark. He didn’t have a skilled throwing hand, but this ability let him pick the best of a hundred attempts. Expending his power with a grimace, Paul Actualized his favorite of the acceptable ten percent and lifted his hand to aim a shot at the mirror.

Paul examined the fifty percent of his beams that hit the mirror for how they reflected. Most of those beams went wild in all directions, but a few landed on his target. Finally, Paul Actualized a beam from his palm that bounced off the mirror to nail the hatchet on the central axis of its rotations, blasting it off-course.

The axe spun away to land somewhere in the forest below, harmless.

:HOLY COW!: Daniel mentally shouted. :One shot, I can’t believe he got it in one shot!: Daniel grinned through a wince as he clutched his head, and the wind stole his laughter. The group erupted with exclamations of surprise and congratulations.

Even Kenta was impressed. :When did you get so good at your Pathing?:

Basking in the afterglow of praise, Paul felt exhausted as he returned to lantern form. The drain of a few hundred total experiences took their toll, no matter if they were a second each. It wasn’t the cost of shooting a hundred beams; those misses hadn’t happened. The unused Actualizations cost magic, though, and overuse threatened a nasty headache.

:Cassie, why didn’t you try to dodge it?: Paul asked her privately.

:Hmm?: she replied. :We weren’t in any danger. I knew you’d stop the hatchet.:

She hadn’t Heard the discarded Actualizations or their cost? A bit of anti-synergy to watch.

He loved fantasy stories and any kind of adventure. Among the many tales in the Book Town library, he’d grown a particular attachment to one kind. He’d read them over and over, enjoying each time like brand new.

Paul’s life had become a Choose-Your-Adventure novel.

Except, he got to peak a page ahead. What Cassie had said made him happy. Even if just a little, she’d depended on him. Trusted him. It was a short conversation, a few simple words, but he decided to keep it.