When they reached the next village, they found it mercifully curse-free. It also seemed somewhat more sparsely populated than the last village they had seen despite having a similar number of buildings. They were well into a piedmont region now, and a small river ran along the western edge of the village carrying the rapidly-flowing runoff from the not-so-distant mountains.

“When I told them we have six people, they said that we can have two adjacent houses with a shared yard for the night,” Natalie reported.

“How nice. Will there be another ‘potluck’ here this evening?” Saul asked.

“They didn’t say anything about that, no.”

“Alright, Ziba when you get supplies ask about that goat cheese corn bread. I want to talk to the priest here to see if they can use that translation power. Toby, want to come?”

Unfortunately, no convenient translation powers were forthcoming, ability or miracle. They stayed the night in reasonable comfort, leaving the next morning with little fanfare.

“I asked after that monster we ran into the other day,” Natalie said after lunch, getting Toby and Saul’s attention. “The rangers recognized it from the description I gave of it.”

“What’s it called then?” Toby asked. “It looked like a deflated boar to me.”

“I don’t know if there’s an equivalent in Oriawin, but it’s apparently a ‘squonk’. They usually avoid roads, apparently.”

“Squonk. Squonk. Sounds a bit like the sound a pig makes, I can see it.”

“The ‘acid’ it was launching was from its tears,” Natalie explained. “They also said that when severely threatened they can sometimes turn their whole bodies into tears. Did it try something like that?”

“Not that I noticed. I had a lot of trouble pinning it down, but once I did, I must have impaled it through something vital.”

Saul added the details Natalie had learned to the note he’d made about the monster. He also marked out the speculation that the squonk was related to the acid icon. The tears turned out to be an ability related to water and fear alone.

The following day, they entered a relatively dense evergreen forest. Toby finally figured out his way to use the Breath cantrip, but found it dizzying to use. Directly infusing the power of wind into his blood seemed to be too effective.

One morning, less than an hour after they set out, the carriage halted with an abrupt crunch that violently jostled everyone in the sitting area. Toby quickly slipped out the front door to see what the problem was. After a minute or so, he stuck his head back in.

“I don’t see anything, Natalie?” he asked.

She was quiet for a moment, presumably extending her domain.

“Nothing nearby that I can find,” she confirmed.

Toby stepped back and Saul climbed out after him. They all looked around while Toby healed Dinah, who was lying on the ground near the small shell of rock that contained the horse.

“Other than the injuries from hitting the ground,” Toby assessed, “she was hit in the tailbone hard enough to crack it. I assume that was the driver’s bench itself, but I still don’t see why. This will take at least an hour to fix, and she shouldn’t sit on it for a day or two.”

“I can take care of driving for a short time, your honor,” Ziba offered, sitting on his wife’s other side. He took her hand in his, and she gripped him hard enough to make him wince.

“God fucking damn it,” she growled into the dirt of the road, “hurts like a rusted wrought-iron—”

“AND is there anything you might be able to do for the pain?” Ziba asked loudly, talking over her.

“I already numbed her,” Toby replied. “That’s why she’s coherent. I could…”

Saul, Natalie, and Bart went around the side of the wagon to look for damage or a sign of what had stopped the carriage.

“The harness ropes are still taut,” Saul said, “that means whatever stopped us hit the carriage but not the horse.”

“If the bench she was sitting on hit her hard enough to crack a bone, it probably shifted straight up suddenly,” Natalie pointed out. “Or, it dropped suddenly then rose rapidly. But there’s no dip in the road.”

They knelt down to look under the carriage. The road was well packed, relatively flat earth like usual. Tracks from the wheels were slightly noticeable, though the wheels weren’t quite in them.

“So, the impact shifted the whole carriage slightly,” Saul indicated. “Look at the front wheels, they must have left the ground for an instant. No divots, unlike the back wheels.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Something in or under the front half of the carriage abruptly pushed up with a couple thousand pounds of force, then stopped,” Natalie said. “An earth ability could probably do something like that, but it would break up the road and probably would have snapped the axel. You keep the portable hole under the driver’s bench, right?”

“I really hope that isn’t it.”

Saul climbed back up behind the driver’s bench and opened the small cabinet of horse blankets. The regular blankets piled on top of the portable hole had been pressed almost flat, leaving the space looking half empty. He laid the hole out next to where Toby was healing Dinah. She wasn’t swearing now, but kept twitching every few seconds. Once the hole was open, he and Natalie stared down into it for a few seconds. It was two feet deeper than it should be, made obvious by the ladder that was now of insufficient length, and some of the contents had been smashed.

“Scholar’s slippery scrolls!” Saul muttered walking around the hole to get a better look. “Do you two see any body parts in that mess?”

“I don’t think so…Light” Natalie illuminated the portable hole, which was in the shadow of the carriage. “It looks like there’s water at the bottom, with some potatoes and books.”

“That’s not good. Bart, hold this,” Saul handed the man his satchel, then tried to climb onto the ladder. Bart had to kneel on the edge and help lower Saul down to the ladder that was almost three feet below the new edge and relatively flush with the side.

When Saul made it down to the contents of the hole safely, he checked the damage against his inventory sketch. Several barrels and a chest had been smashed in roughly a straight line starting at the side of the hole a few feet to the left and moving up and further to the left. He felt the crimson, metallic surface of the hole’s interior near the presumed entry point, but it was as smooth and temperature-less as ever. All but one of the water barrels in the hole were little more than splinters and maybe a foot of standing water at the bottom, as well as the open barrel of potatoes and one chest of books. The chest of books Saul hadn’t started reading yet, specifically. He saved a dozen books that weren’t wet, stacking them on the side of the immersion chamber.

Following the angle of whatever had been forced into the hole, Saul found something that was definitely new. It was a miniature chest made entirely of metal, part of the bottom cleanly sheared off. It proved heavy for its size as he maneuvered it onto a chest of clothes adjacent to where it had become wedged. The edge of the missing chunk was sharp enough that it sank half an inch into the clothes chest. He tried to open the small chest, but it had three locks on the lid. Undeterred and harboring considerable irritation toward whatever idiot had made this his problem, Saul flipped the chest and carefully tried to pull the contents out through the bottom.

He only cut himself twice as he removed a plush cushion that was cut to pieces as he yanked it out. Peering into the chest he saw two things that were nearly enough to mitigate his annoyance: an icon and a book.

Bart hauled Saul back out of the portable along with the thirteen books he had tucked into his shirt and pants, then returned the storage satchel. Saul slid the intensely blue icon and unfamiliar tome into the satchel.

“I’ll set these in my room, then we all need to talk,” Saul said, indicating his literature-laden clothes.

“Talk about what?” a slightly weary Toby asked as he joined them. “You figured out what happened?”

“Someone somewhere broke their storage satchel or hole,” Natalie offered. “Part of the space from it and some of its contents ended up in this one. I don’t know why that made the portable hole move with such force though.”

“Is that how it works?” Toby leaned over the edge to see for himself.

“Yes. That’s why I have to be careful not to take my satchel in with me,” Saul agreed. “Luckily, no body parts ended up in there. The whole inside could have been sprayed with blood. Less luckily, the most of a metal chest that did end up in there took out most of our water barrels, and a couple other things. It didn’t so much as ruffle any of the clothes chests, which would have been the easiest thing to deal with being damaged.”

“It broke the water barrels? Is any of the water salvageable? We were running fairly close on water between towns already.”

“Maybe, but I think we should try to get going as soon as possible instead. We’re only a day or two from the next village. They should have barrels or something similar we can buy.”

“I guess I could continue healing Dinah on the road, though it would be more painful for her,” Toby said. “I don’t know how quickly we’ll be able to get going though. Ziba isn’t having any success getting Geronimo Tanny to open the rock shell he made when the carriage jerked him to a stop.”

“How is she?”

“I’ve only just started healing the cracked bone. It’s tiring, and I’m not sure I want to tire myself out too much while we’re in a precarious position.”

“I could copy your ability and help,” Natalie suggested.

“Can your domain see inside of a person’s body?” Toby asked, to which she nodded. “Then sure. It’s not an especially complicated ability if properly targeted.”

“Why don’t you two start that while I put all these books away,” Saul said. “The portable hole as well, if you think we can get going soonish.”

As he started folding the hole, everyone’s attention was drawn by a friendly greeting. An elf in a hooded cloak with a quiver on one hip, sword sheathed on the other, and bow in hand emerged from the forest, stopping next to the road. They continued speaking in elvish, but while Saul had recognized the equivalent of ‘hello,’ the rest was beyond him. He looked over to Natalie, who was scowling.

Bart stepped in front of Saul, who backed up to the wagon and closer to Toby. Natalie moved forward and spoke to the elf. Their conversation was incomprehensible, but seemed to quickly become tense. Saul didn’t bother with the useless translation artifact. When nine more elves in rough leather and flannel with assorted bows and blades filtered out of the trees behind the first, Toby conjured a sword and knife, handing the latter to Bart.

“They’re bandits,” Natalie said quickly. “Remember, that means something different here, I’m trying to get them to back off.”

The apparent argument continued, the lead elf gesturing angrily to the still-mostly-open portable hole. Natalie pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Is there anything you could stand to part with in the portable hole?” she sighed. “A clothes chest or something?”

“Tell them this:” Toby pointed his sword at the leader, “you get this one warning. Leave.”

As Natalie quickly said something in elvish, Toby flicked the tip of his blade slightly. With the faintest whisper of wind, blood sprayed from the leader’s carotid artery as they dropped lifelessly to the ground. There was a pause as the elf’s blood began pooling under their neck, which had been cut almost a third of the way through cleanly.

“Damn it, why are they so fragile?” Toby said, taken aback.

Most of the other elves drew their weapons.