Toby and Bart came back down into the carriage not long after it finally moved back onto slightly smoother road.

“We’re mostly out of the city,” Toby said, sitting across from Saul.

Saul rose partly to open the front door and get Ziba to come in, closed and locked it, then got Uncle Nathan from his room. There was an awkward pause as the five of them looked at one another, before Nathan elbowed Saul.

“Alright, everyone,” Saul said, “my uncle, Nathaniel, is joining us for the beginning of the trip. We think that there is an at least moderate chance that I will be targeted before we reach the border, especially if no one knows that we have someone of his power with us. He’ll be staying out of sight of the outside of the carriage, and I need you to avoid mentioning his presence outside as well.”

Ziba bowed deeply, Bart quickly copying him. Toby bowed lightly, as well as he could sitting on a plush cushion. Nathan turned to Bart with a smile.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, young man,” he said, “but I have every confidence that you’ve heard of me!”

“Of course, my lord?” Bart replied uncertainly.

“They call me the Midsummer Fool!” Nathan declared with a sweep of his hand, putting an arm over the taller man’s shoulders, “I’ve danced through landslides, pranced across undead hordes, brought the warm summer sun to the coldest winter night!” He gestured wildly, as if trying to draw out each scene. “Why, I’m the most famous person you’ve ever met, and I’m here to keep you all safe and sound.”

“Oh, I have heard of you, my dad used to tell me the story of what he did during the Shortest Day of Summer!” Bart said brightly, almost straightening. Nathan pulled on his shoulders to stop him from hitting his head. “I was only two or three, so I don’t remember it. When the docks fully unfroze, he got a lot of the smaller fishing boats out for the day. They got a great catch. My lord.”

Saul sat back down while Uncle Nathan continued to exaggerate tales of his accomplishments, and wheedle stories about fishing out of Bart. As exaggerated as he was, Nathan was reining in his usual habit of using a couple of his abilities for dramatic effect. Their power might be detectable to someone paying enough attention to the carriage.

Saul took out his schedule, which had become more of a to-do-on-the-trip list over the past few days, and skimmed it for ideas again. Now that Toby was back inside, he could get started on at least one. He moved to sit next to Toby, and pulled out a scroll he had written cantrip notes on.

“So, remember how I mentioned that I had found a cantrip you could work on?”

“Yeah?” Toby agreed.

“I thought now would be a good time to get started working on it, if you’re interested?”

“Sure. I’m guessing it’s not a death cantrip?”

“No,” Saul confirmed, “wind. I think it has decent potential, if you become proficient enough with it. It’s called Breath.”

He walked Toby through what he had read about the cantrip and explained the way he had written the examples of how to start using the cantrip on the scroll. The cantrip had been another success in looking to adjacent icons for inspiration. Like the Suffuse cantrip Saul had found for Michah, Breath was known to the blood icon. Blood was like a combination of elemental water and wind, carrying the power of wind through the body, but soaking in like water. Breath would allow Toby to draw that power directly into his body, potentially even in places where the traces of wind were too sparse to breathe normally.

“You’re working on a cantrip too?” Toby asked when Saul returned to his seat and started muttering and waving in the air. “I would have thought you’d be reading. Actually, weren’t you not supposed to use cantrips?”

“I decided not to start reading anything until I can use Fracture,” Saul said, “and the cantrip thing was just until we left on the trip, which we now have.”

“If you say so.”

As the evening approached, they drew near to the town of Outridge, which was almost exactly one day’s ride from Enchre. They’d gotten a late start, but an earth-attuned horse was valuable for a reason. It traveled faster than a normal horse even while pulling the carriage the size of a merchant’s wagon.

The land still fell under the purview of the southern Enchre Viscounty itself, capital region of the Enchre March, so it had no landed lord of its own. They gave the knight that House Enchre had entrusted the town to something of a surprise when the carriage rolled up to his small keep. Nobles of all sorts passed through his town on duty every day, but the son of a Viscount staying the night prompted a small banquet and guest rooms for Saul and Toby.

The group left early the following morning, Uncle Nathan complaining dramatically about being the only person who’d had to spend the night in the carriage so far despite only being with them temporarily. Saul finally got him to stop by asking for advice about maintaining some semblance of a training regimen on the road.

In the early afternoon, they left the Enchre Viscounty and passed through the edge of the Cemore Barony. They could reach the next town in the Ruxlyn Viscounty by late evening.

“Shame we won’t be stopping to see Baron Cemore,” Saul commented, “his daughter gave me a great book for my birthday, I’d like to thank them.”

“You could have, if you’d said something earlier,” Nathan replied from the rattling floor where he was lying. He claimed he’d taken a shine to it. “It isn’t like you have a tight schedule. Traveling into the night tonight was the idea anyway.”

“I guess I didn’t want to that much.”

Once the sun went down, Nathaniel put them all on alert.

“If anyone’s going to attack us, it will most likely be in the next hour or two,” he explained. “Before we get too close to Tribridge. Saul, I want you to keep the mail powered.”

Saul fed a quarter to his tattoo as well, just in case. The next hour passed in tense silence, Ziba lying down on the cushions hoping to avoid any violence. Saul started pacing between the hallway and back room, Bart following just on his heel and making it difficult. Toby created a few different blades and tested how well he could swing them in the carriage. He settled on two longer-than-usual daggers, forced the rest to return to wind, and gave a third dagger to Bart. Uncle Nathan sat on the lip of the sitting area and waited, bounding his knees.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

As Saul stepped into the back room for the hundredth time, Bart just behind him, Bart broke the silence.

“I taste fur?”

Before Saul could move past Bart and back into the hallway, the door in the back room cracked as it was wrenched open.

A large, hairy, ursine man used the frame to launch himself directly toward Saul.

An acrobatic blur vaulted over Bart, intercepting the man with a second loud crack.

From somewhere in the darkness beyond the door, an arrow glanced off Saul’s armored left shoulder, spinning him slightly.

The second arrow punched through the inside of his left elbow, caught a bone, and slammed him against the wall behind him.

The third arrow only dug half an inch into Bart’s torso.

Uncle Nathan stood over the hairy man holding the small, gleaming hammer that had shattered his jaw.

“Toby! Cut his legs off.”

Nathan sprang out the door with another shout, “MIDDAY SUN!”

Around Bart, out the door, the night turned to day.

As Toby approached the ursine man on the floor, the man shrank, becoming less hairy and muscular, with a less broken jaw.

“Barbarian!” Saul half-yelled, much louder than he intended.

The man’s unfocused gaze snapped to him, Toby’s dagger cutting the man’s forearm as he rose.

The Barbarian lunged, but abruptly slowed in midair as Bart moved in the way.

Toby sank both daggers into the man’s back, one between the ribs, the other near a kidney.

The man was growing again, gray hair forming on his body and claws forming on fingers reaching for Bart’s face in slow motion.

“BLIND!” Nathan yelled from somewhere outside, accompanied with a flash of light.

The wind in the carriage picked up as Toby drew back and formed a longer blade.

The Barbarian’s huge paw gripped the side of Bart’s head and neck almost gently, the claws digging in as he planted a foot and pulled Bart toward him.

Toby’s body suddenly twisted unnaturally, his new short sword instantly accelerating to slice through the back of most of the man’s knee.

The Barbarian sagged, braced himself using his grip on Bart, and used his right hand to shove the arrow in Bart’s torso much deeper.

Saul saw the man’s face appear over Bart’s falling shoulder. No anger, just clenched teeth and grim determination.

As Bart slumped, both were moving faster, the Barbarian pushing forward, eyes still locked on Saul.

Saul gave the man a jerking nod.

“Mirror”

The next thing he knew the man was on top of him. Belatedly, he tried to get his right arm up, but it was held down by the man’s massive left.

The Barbarian’s head slammed into Saul’s cheek, then lifted to reveal the upper half of his face, now entirely transformed into a reflective surface.

A strong wind was blowing, stinging Saul’s eyes. The man’s ear slid off, landing on Saul’s neck.

To the left, the man’s right hand was pinned to the floor by a short sword.

More and more blood dripped from his head as the man tried to bring it down again, but only slumped weakly.

“Fucking shit! You three better not move a damn inch!” Nathan yelled nearby.

The bloody man on top of Saul was ripped away, literally in the case of the hand that had been pinned to the floor.

Uncle Nathan’s pristine form appeared over Saul, scrutinizing him. He reached down to squeeze Saul’s left arm and pull out the arrow the flesh had healed around. “You’re not using the armor. Focus!” When Saul concentrated again, most of the pain becoming distant, Nathan moved away.

Keeping the mail working was taking a lot more of Saul’s focus now, so he was only dimly aware of the following minutes. Nathan dragged the Barbarian out of the carriage, and Toby took his time working the arrow out of Bart’s torso before healing him. Toby helped get Bart over to lean against the wall next to Saul, then left the carriage.

Outside there was a lot of yelling and several unfamiliar screams. Eventually, Uncle Nathan returned, waving a hand in front of Saul’s face until he dropped his concentration on the mail to listen.

“…stop?” Nathan was saying. “There you go. Ok, both of you are physically fine. Saul, you can come out of the carriage without using the armor for the moment since I’m with you. Bart…you just stay put. Deep breaths.”

Saul pushed himself up, wiping some congealing blood from his face with his right sleeve. The left was completely soaked with a combination of his own blood and the man’s.

“Alright, are you good to try to make a certain impression?” Uncle Nathan asked in a low tone, “I want you to go for something like dismissive if possible.”

“I can. It’s all part of our job.” Saul said to Nathan and himself.

They stepped out of the carriage to a warm, sunny day, the moon high overhead. Four people were lined up against the base of a small hill. Three sat upright covered in blisters and contusions, the fourth lay sideways covered in lacerations and missing part of his right hand. All four were missing their legs below the knee.

“He’s not going to die,” Toby told them, looking up from beside the recumbent attacker, “but I used an ability earlier that makes healing him much harder. Most of these will keep bleeding for a while.”

“Good enough!” Nathan declared, then patted Saul on the shoulder, “good job blinding him. You might not have any powers yet, but your cantrips are really coming along!”

The other three attackers looked at their insensate companion and up at Saul.

“He wasn’t that hard to affect,” Saul said with a shrug, “I am curious about his transformation. He’s obviously a Barbarian with the bear icon, but I couldn’t quite tell what his third icon was from his capstone transformation. Which of you three can tell me?”

After a moment, the woman on the far left replied, “it’s another bear icon.”

“How unusual,” Saul remarked, “death and two kinds of bear. So unusual, in fact, that I think I’ve only heard it once before. Some lesser member of House Winnell used both a grizzly bear and a polar bear icon. Does that sound familiar?”

He didn’t get a response.

“I hope it sounds familiar,” Nathan added, pulling out several lengths of parchment, “I’ve got all of this lovely stationery perfect for writing confessions. I’d hate to have to keep breaking bones.” Saul looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I broke the bones in their feet and legs before Toby cut them off.”

“You’re lucky one of them didn’t go into shock,” Toby commented, joining them, “Undying makes it less likely, but we aren’t immune. The bear guy won’t be writing anything, half his hand got ripped off. I can regrow parts of fingers sometimes, but not the whole thing.”

“He can sign something with his left hand.” Nathan said as he started handing parchment and quill to the subdued attackers.

There were unsteady steps behind them, and Bart came over to stand behind Saul.

“You aren’t killing them?” he asked after a moment.

“Goodness no.” Nathan said, placing a hand over his heart. “What are we, barbarians?”

Toby snorted and Saul chuckled in spite of himself.

“But…you cut all their legs off?” Bart asked hesitantly.

“I only went this far because of what they did to my niece.” Nathan replied, crossing his arms and giving the attackers a distinctly unfriendly look. “Once I have confessions from all of them, we can get going.”