Pleased as Sarah Jay was to ride with the Firstborn, hanging out with the boots was a whole lot more fun.
Been less than a month since she dropped out of Basic to support her man and signed on with Howie, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since she’d had any decent conversation. Errol was a sweetheart and a gentleman, but he was happy to sit and smile while she went on and on about herself, and would only ever open up about himself when she pried the words right out of his mouth. Was like pulling teeth, an exhausting effort which left her drained and weary, whereas a proper chit chat ought to liven you up. As for Howie, he didn’t talk with you so much as talk at you, always telling tall tales or lecturing you on this or that while acting all mysterious and evasive when questioned directly. Big smile and closed book, that’s the Firstborn in a nutshell, because while she had him pegged as an angry, thrill seeking, Spell slinging gunfighter with a love of animals and no head for money, she didn’t have the first clue as to what made him tick. Was infuriating is what it was, but far as she could tell, that’s just how her boys were, and she’d have to live with it until Howie was ready to hire on more help.
Or at least, that’s what she told herself until she got a chance to catch up with the boots. After getting through all the pleasant niceties about what they’d been up to, they got right down into the nitty gritty of it, talking about who was sweet on who and what they were doing about it. Lots of boys were still head over heels for Tina or Kacey, while Sally was stirring up drama same as always, but there were a few other couples sorting themselves out. Mostly with the locals in New Hope, and Sarah Jay spent a good hour or two just working through all that. There was other gossip of interest too, and it was great to talk to someone about something other than Abby, training, dangers of the Frontier, or what the future might have in store.
It was a rare thing for Sarah Jay to feel her age these days, a girl of seventeen who wanted nothing more than to be free of all the responsibilities she’d been burdened with, but couldn’t because you don’t turn your back on the people you love. Didn’t have to worry about all that today though. Thanks to Howie, they’d pulled in a big haul, and with how squirrely he was acting about the Spell Core Errol fished out, she suspected their payout was bigger than expected. Only 10% was coming their way, but it'd add up soon enough. Might take a month or two to earn enough for first and last month’s rent, and then she could get Mary Ann and little Jimmy out from under Oswald’s roof and thumb at the very least. It’d take a lot more to convince Mama to leave that mean drunk behind, months, maybe years even. One step at a time though, as any progress was good progress, so Sarah Jay ate, laughed, and made merry with her friends around the cookfires while Errol sat by her side and quietly took it all in.
That’s just how he was. Not exactly a wallflower, as he didn’t wilt under attention, but he always kept himself apart, locked in his own little world. Probably because he’d never had any friends his own age growing up in a small town like he did. Was either helping out with kids two or three years younger than he was, or hanging out with the ranch hands who were all old timers. Least Errol had an excuse for being socially awkward; Howie was even worse sometimes, and he grew up in New Hope with Tina, Chrissy, and at least seven other children born within a year of the Advent. Ironic how only one of them signed on as a Ranger, namely Tina and no one else. Chrissy was Chrissy, and Howie had his reasons, while Marijke was on track to becoming the premier gunsmith of their generation. Then there was Danny, who seemed smart as a whip and well off running his own shop, but Sarah Jay didn’t know any of the others, who were all off learning their own chosen professions. That was the biggest advantage of being born early, because so long as you wanted it enough, you could do anything your heart was set on. Things were gonna change quick, so even if little Jimmy wanted to join the Rangers, Sarah Jay doubted it’d be as easy to get in once he was old enough to sign on. As for Mary Ann, Mama was already talking about how she’d have to work hard to find herself a good husband to rely on. Never was any of that talk for Sarah Jay, so she was worried for her younger sister, who was pretty as a peach but didn’t have a lick of good sense in her head, and would always do whatever Mama said.
Which was a problem, seeing how these days, Mama always did what Oswald said…
Course, as much fun as Sarah Jay was having with people her own age, there were some habits so ingrained that they were hard to break. That’s why when she spotted Gabe and Steve sharing a waterskin with a few other boots, she honed in on that like a whisperwing and spotted their red cheeks, slack grins, and general good cheer. Seemed like even though little Dick’s group of racists had splintered apart without him to keep them together, they were still up to no good. Least Alfred had the good sense to apologize and distance himself, while Ike was man enough to put aside his beef and work with Errol to save Nate, but Gabe and Steve? They’d gathered up the scraps of their old group and were now set on getting shit-faced here in the desert.
Snitching wouldn’t do, because not only were the Rangers supposed to look out for one another, she was now an outsider amongst them, meaning it’d raise some hard feelings if she were to speak out. Luckily, she didn’t have to do nothing as Captain Clay came in all hot and fired up, his sour mood no doubt having something to do with the sit down he and his fellow Captains just had with Howie about twenty minutes back. “Give it here,” the dark giant demanded, holding out a meaty hand that looked capable of plucking Gabe’s head right off of his neck, so Sarah Jay didn’t blame the big guy for giving the skin up right quick. A quick sniff made the Captain’s fearsome, punch-scarred features contort into a frightful scowl, one he wore to glower at the five cowed boots who’d been drinking, and plenty of those just watching from nearby. To say he had a powerful presence was understating it, as he towered high overtop them all and had enough brawn to match any three. Having gotten a peek behind the curtains so to speak, Sarah Jay could tell it was all an act, as Captain Clay was a kind soul who cared deeply for his wife and community. Howie too, which was probably why the Captain was so steamed, what with the Firstborn having come back with more holes in his duster than bramble elk antlers had points.
“Hope you brought this from home,” Captain Clay grumbled, one so deep and resonant it shook you to the bone. “Because if you paid for this swill, then you were robbed. Bad look, Ranger prospects getting swindled, almost as bad as seeing them drunk in public.” Emptying the waterskin out onto the sand, Captain Clay fixed the boys with a hard stare, as if waiting for one of them to speak, but dumb, drunk, and racist though they might be, they were still smart enough to keep quiet. Wasn’t till the last drop was out of the waterskin and drying out on the sand that Captain Clay cared to continue. “Here on the Frontier,” he began, turning his gaze away from the delinquents to take in the rest of them, all of whom were watching with bated breath, “The job of an American Ranger is about more than being a soldier. We’re also part-time lawmen when the local Sheriffs require it, which means we’re expected to uphold the Accords. Can’t be doing that if we’re seen breaking them. Accords says you got to be eighteen to drink, and there isn’t a single one of you here older than sixteen.” For a long second, he drank in the silence and attention, his steely features daunting and disapproving, until, without warning, they melted into a big, boyish grin. “Then again, I don’t see any civilians around, so I don’t mind saying that the Accords don’t always make sense. They say sixteen is old enough to serve in the military with parental permission, but if you’re old enough to fight, then I’d say you’re old enough for a drink. A proper drink, not this toilet swill you got here.”
As if on cue, the Meadowbrook Rangers brought out their bottles of alcohol, all top shelf looking bottles labelled cognac, whatever that was. A lovely golden-brown liqueur with a powerful smell, as she discovered firsthand when the big-haired Conner handed her a half-filled shot glass of it. She didn’t down it, nor did Errol who had to be convinced to take it, and only did so after she elbowed him in the side and gave him a look that said quit making a fuss. Soon enough, every last boot had a glass in hand, though she noted Howie was nowhere to be seen. Most of the Rangers were here though, including their instructors, plenty of whom looked sour as could be. Drill Sergeant Begaye was grim as always, and his hands were notably empty, as he was a notorious tee-totaller when it came to alcohol and hated anything to do with it.
Just saying, Gabe and Steve were lucky Captain Marcus was the one to catch them out, else the Drill Sergeant might well have set them to doing suicides till they threw up…
Hoisting his own tiny shotglass overhead, Captain Clay gave them a big smile and said, “To today’s victory!”
“Hooyah!” Came the resounding reply, mostly from the Rangers while the boots belatedly joined in. Everyone tossed back their shot, and though it burned going down and made Sarah Jay’s eyes water, she didn’t hate the taste. Sweet and smoky, with a hint of spicy, and she immediately wanted another glass to explore the flavours more. Loved how warm it made her feel too, which somehow made the oppressive desert heat feel a mite more pleasant without changing a thing, and she relished the moment as best she could while struggling to come to grips with her prior distaste for alcohol.
“Keep your shotglasses safe,” Captain Clay said, his smile wide and bright as could be. “Those are yours now, and I hope to raise them with you again soon. That said, I don’t want to see anyone drinking without my say so. You might not be Rangers yet, but if you ever hope to be, you will not drink on duty again.” Giving Gabe and his ilk one last glower, Captain Clay broke it off to continue addressing the crowd. “Today, you fought Abby and got a taste for battle. Tonight, we ate, drank, and celebrated our victory. Tomorrow morning however, each and every one of you have a decision to make.”
Taking a beat to let his words sink in, Captain Clay cast his gaze across the boots and waited for the muttering to die down. “You were told this trip would be a live-fire training exercise against Abby, which is true, but today was just the appetizer. It’s time you learned what the full-course will be like, so listen close. In two- or three-days time, we will arrive at Pleasant Dunes, a fortified mining town at the base of the Serpent Teeth Mountain Range. We have reason to believe it will soon come under attack by a sizable Aberration horde. Our mission is to repel the attack and wipe out any and all Aberrations who come pouring out of the mountains, or failing that, extract as many locals as we can and get them to safety.”
This was all old hat to Sarah Jay, so she had plenty of time to watch the boots process the news. Some, like Michael, Alfred, and Tina were excited as could be, while others were breaking out into a cold sweat. Most were just stunned though, not reacting because they wasn’t sure how to feel about it just yet. Giving Errol’s hand a squeeze, Sarah Jay smiled and got herself a smile back as they reaffirmed their convictions to carry on along this path, to fight Abby and help others even if they weren’t gonna be no Rangers anymore.
And make good money while they were at it, of course, but once she had enough to convince Mama to leave Oswald and move back to New Hope, she wouldn’t have to be so desperate for cash no more.
“Make no mistake,” Captain Clay continued, after waiting long enough for the bustle to die down. “This will be a difficult task. No one died today, but a few came close, and I make no guarantees that everything will turn out alright, not even for my Rangers. The days ahead will be arduous and full of danger, so if you have any doubts about what we’re walking into, tomorrow morning is your last chance to step away. When the sun rises, we’ll be sending the wounded back to Meadowbrook, and any of you are free to join them.”
“Even us?” Wayne asked, eliciting a chorus of laughs from the Rangers and a few chuckles from the boots.
“No, not you,” Captain Clay replied, flashing a grin at his Company. “You lot are stuck with me. The rest of you though?” The grin disappeared, replaced by grim severity. “Those who stay will be officially conscripted into the Rangers for the duration of the trip. Won’t make you Rangers, but I’ll treat you like one. That includes punishment for drinking on duty, which could be as small a hundred hours of heavy labour and a cash fine for a minor offense, or being charged with dereliction of duty for a more serious one. That’s prison time at the least, and the same goes for desertion and failure to heed orders in a warzone.” There were no smiles now, no gentle giant to be found, but Sarah Jay knew this was his way of being kind. “None of that applies until tomorrow morning, after the wounded have left,” Captain Clay declared, meeting the eyes of every boot watching, one by one by one. “Once they’re gone, then you are all mine until I say otherwise. Questions?”
“Will we be booted from Basic if we don’t stay?” Someone asked, and Sarah Jay saw it was one of Gabe’s cronies. Didn’t know she could respect them even less, but they was working hard to scoot right under that bar.
“No,” Captain Jung replied, standing off to Sarah Jay’s left and so still you’d think she was a statue. “Your classes will continue in my absence, and so long as you exert a willingness to learn and work within the rules, then you will be fed and housed until the end of the program come June. Having already shown unwillingness to fight however, you are unlikely to be enlisted by the Rangers once training is complete. Know that this will have no bearing on lessons moving forward, or how any of us treat you. We offer this training for free because we are teaching you skills you might one day require to survive, whether you enlist or not.” Taking in the crowd, Captain Jung’s stony expression softened in a way Sarah Jay had never seen before, and suddenly she didn’t look all that mean anymore, just sad and jaded. “The Watershed is coming. Sooner or later, you will all have to fight, whether you want to or not. In my opinion, it is better you learn now under our guidance, than be left scrambling when Aberrations come knocking on your doorstep.”
“Talk amongst yourselves,” Captain Clay said after it was clear no one had anymore questions. “None of you are scheduled for night watch, so take as much time as you need.”
With that, the Rangers left the boots to talk, and many of them did, turning this way and that to whisper amongst themselves. Sarah Jay didn’t have nothing to say though. She and Errol had had this talk some days ago, and a variation of it every now and again since, but long story short, if Howie thought it was too dangerous to go, then he’d have damned the consequences and run off with Tina in tow, no two ways about it. As for Tina herself, she also knew beforehand, so she didn’t seem none too fussed as she set to calming and consoling her squad, minus Nate of course, who was heading back tomorrow morning whether he wanted to or not. Was a close thing, the Bolt he took, and the medic said that if it wasn’t for Errol’s quick work, Nate might well have fared worse.
Sarah Jay was so proud of her man and of how well he was shaping up, which again brought her a pang of guilt over not pushing him to try and sign back on with the Rangers again. This was where he would thrive, or at least get there with less growing pains than he would have riding with Howie, but that wasn’t neither of their faults. It was circumstance, that’s all, and despite the difficulties, they were all doing their best and giving it their all. Case in point, Errol gave her a wry grin and said, “Why don’t we leave them to it? Our decision’s made, so not much for us to do besides stand around and gawk. Might as well head back and relax a bit.”
“Sounds good,” she replied, eager to give the Longstrider Spell Formula a closer look now that she knew how effective it could be when paired with Expeditious Retreat. For the most part, Howie only made suggestions about what Spells they ought to pick up. Up until now, Sarah Jay had deferred to his expertise, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t decide for herself. Learning Entangle had taken a fair bit of effort, and she couldn’t keep any more Spell Structures in memory without clearing out an existing one, but there wasn’t no harm in expanding her pool of available Spells to draw on.
Granted, Howie said her efforts would be better spent familiarizing herself with the Spells she already knew, but she wasn’t in no mind to cast Jump and go hopping around in this heat, or test out her Mage Armour which was about as sturdy as a sheet of paper. Entangle would be fun to practice, but she only had so many strands of grass and couldn’t count on picking more out here in the desert. As for her last memorized Spell, Aegis was notorious for being highly effective with next to no room for improvement without upcasting, as all it did was conjure up a temporary, skin-tight shroud around the caster that would protect you for about five seconds or so. Like Mage Armour, only backwards, in that it provide a lot of defense for a very short time rather than the other way around. Great in a pinch, but only as an option of last resort, since the shroud was solid and kept you from moving until the Spell was done or dismissed.
Unfortunately, Howie hadn’t written out the Longstrider Spell Formula for her just yet, mostly because the next Spell on the list to learn was supposed to be Eagle Eye. After leaving Errol to stare at the stars, she sauntered over to where Howie was sitting all by his lonesome and clearing the last of his enormous plate. “Hey there,” he said, flashing her a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes, but not because he wasn’t happy to see her. Between getting fooled by the hob, robbed by scavs, and needled by Wayne, Howie was in a foul mood, and it took all of two seconds to notice all three Captains converging on him earlier. While that was going on, everyone took to whispering about what it could be about, and Sarah Jay had honestly told one and all that she had no earthly idea. Curious as she was, she could see he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, as evidenced by his almost curt utterance of, “What can I do you for?”
Nothing wrong with the words, only his delivery, utterly lacking in enthusiasm as he was distracted by other thoughts. “Well,” she drawled, then got straight to the point since he’d likely appreciate the lack of small talk. “Was hoping to see the Spell Formula for Longstrider if it ain’t too much trouble.” Expeditious Retreat could wait, as well as Floating Disc, since those seemed more situational or recreational than anything else. Or not, actually. “Floating Disc would work too, whichever is easier. Eagle Eye is more of a long-term goal that’ll need a lot of hours at the range, and I figure I could help you cover ground or haul corpses in the interim. Increase survivability and cut back on those expenses, you know?”
That brought a genuine smile to Howie’s face, a real toothy, open-mouthed one that made his eyes almost disappear into his cheeks. “Thinking like a team player, I like it. You sure about Longstrider though? Ain’t you worried I’ll send you out as Abby bait?”
“At the cost of your best shooter?” Giving him a mock smug look, she put her hands on her hips and smirked. “You a lot of things Howie, but dumb ain’t one of them.”
“Jury’s still out on that,” he replied, his smile melting away, and for a moment, she thought he’d open up then and there, only for the moment to pass as he bottled it all up tight and reached into his duster for his Spellbook. Didn’t matter how often she saw it, it still jarred to see him pull out a leather-bound notepad, as opposed to the big, hardcover textbooks most Spellslingers carried around. “I’ll have you learn Longstrider first,” he said, flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for and held it out for her to take. “Easier to find dirt than iron dust out here, and the ability to run faster might come in handy soon enough. Look it over while I clean my plate, then I’ll walk you through it.”
“How ‘bout you hand that plate over and scrawl out a copy instead,” she said, and wouldn’t you know it, Howie’s eyes went wide with surprise. Wasn’t joking neither, which made her scowl. “Don’t expect me to wait hand and foot on you, but I’d say washing a plate is a mighty small price to pay for a Spell Formula and lessons to boot.”
“Lessons? As in more than one? You some kind of slow or somethin’?” Now he was cracking wise, but if anyone had the right to, it was Howie. Was almost unnaturally how quick he could solve a Spell Formula and engrave the Structure into memory, something he could do on the fly whenever he pleased. Didn’t take him long to copy out the Formula, as the plate and shot glasses were barely dry from her Water Sphere Cantrip when he tore the page out of his notepad and held it for her to take. Only then did he notice the glasses, and he gave a little frown. “Don’t see how anyone can like the stuff,” he said, making a face like something little Jimmy used to when Mama told him to eat his greens. Didn’t make those faces no more, because Oswald would whup him something fierce for the ‘disrespect’. “Foul as can be.”
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“It’s not all that bad,” Sarah Jay replied, pushing the unhappy thoughts aside with a wry smile. Wasn’t like the Firstborn was the only one holding things back, as she had yet to tell him about her family situation. He knew something was afoot, but didn’t ask because that was only polite. She didn’t tell him because she was worried he’d offer to loan her the cash needed to get her siblings out, and she owed him too much already as it was. Was her problem, so she’d fix it herself, or at least that’s what she hoped. Besides, there was an equally good chance Howie’d march right over to Riverrun and beat Oswald bloody the second he learned about the man’s misdeeds, which Sarah Jay would love to see if it wasn’t for the fact that it’d only drive Mama closer to that foul man’s side. Didn’t matter that he’d smack her around for any reason that came to mind, all he had to do was apologize and it was all forgiven and forgotten. Sarah Jay didn’t understand it, but she knew fighting with Oswald wouldn’t solve a thing. Instead, she’d replace him as the pillar in Mama’s life and show her that he wasn’t necessary to ensure their continued survival.
The Longstrider Spell was fairly straightforward all things considered, though Howie ignored her suggestion that he demonstrate by going for a lap around camp, once without the Spell, then again with it equipped. “You’ll know if it’s effective,” he said, rolling his eyes in fake exasperation. “You don’t feel like you runnin’ any faster or harder, but you’ll move further with every step. Don’t rightly understand how it works really, not with the physics and whatnot, and lots of Transmutation Spells don’t seem to make much sense on the surface of it. Remind me some other time to tell you about where Cowie’s mass goes when he gets small. The answer is long-winded and wild, I’ll say that much.”
Wasn’t like him to cut himself short like that, but he left her to her studies and flipped open his notepad to another page, one much further back from the one he copied Longstrider from. Didn’t take him more than a second to tune out the world around him and start solving the Formula, counting on his fingers in his mysterious way that let him do sums using a mental abacus, though she didn’t understand how. Chances were he’d be done memorizing the Spell Structure before she finished solving the Formula in front of her, which was just straight math with no memorizing involved, yet another reminder of how much catching up she had to do to get on par with the Firstborn.
The massive circle of charred, superheated sand just packed full of dead orcs and bugbears was another, a circle she suspected was exactly twenty-four metres across in diameter. The fact that there were folks brave enough to steal from the Spellslinger who’d done that was incredible to behold, and if those Scavs knew what was good for them, they’d make sure to never cross Howie’s path again, lest he set loose the Yellow Devil inside. Wasn’t kind or courteous to think of him as such, even if he owned up to the name, and she hated Wayne for bringing it up. Mr. Ming was a good man who dedicated his life to helping others, so even though he might not have been an American hero, he was a hero all the same, one deserving of respect and admiration. Wasn’t right for Wayne to push Howie’s buttons like that, and if that crooked Ranger dared do it again, Sarah Jay might well be the one to threaten him next.
Was next to impossible for her to settle in and really study with all these thoughts bouncing around in her head, but she did what she could. Didn’t help when Howie snapped his Spellbook shut and proved her right not twenty minutes later, having memorized his new Spell and about to put it to use. After waving Errol over and taking a seat, Howie waggled his fingers and muttered a long chant that was probably in Latin, except Sarah Jay wouldn’t have known it if not for the fact that all his chants were in the same language. As soon as he finished, a silence settled upon them. Not a calm lull of quiet following the end of his chant, but rather a complete and total absence of sound. Wasn’t anyone making a fuss or nothing, but there wasn’t no way to keep a crowd of sixty plus boots and Rangers completely quiet, except now all the hubbub of camp was shut out. No more muttered conversations and whickering horses in the background, no stomping of boots over sand or clanging of pots and pans being moved or washed. The only sounds Sarah Jay could hear was her own breathing while her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t help but snap her fingers and sigh with relief when they made a loud and audible crack.
“Picked up on that right quick,” Howie whispered, his words filling the silence like a dull roar. “This here is a Silence Spell modified by Selective Metamagic to exclude an area inside for us to talk freely. Any noise generated inside this area can’t pass through to outside, and any noise outside can’t reach us in here, leaving us free to make noise without being overheard.” Flashing a grin which cut off Sarah Jay’s question before it even left her lips, Howie winked and said, “Second Order Illusion Spell which requires Concentration, so you’ve a ways to go yet. One of the easier ones though, so not too far.”
Damn it. Be awhile before she was ready to learn it, which meant even longer before she could cover up her night-time trysts with Errol, who was grinning same as Howie as if it didn’t affect him none. She’d also need a Selective Metamagic Rod, or a bead bracelet like Howie’s, assuming that’s what it was. A fancy bit of craftsmanship, Etching a Rune into a glass orb only slightly bigger than her finger tip, though it seemed much easier than carrying around eighteen separate Metamagic focuses, which usually came in the form of a rod. Those were typically about as thick as her thumb and long as her forearm to boot, like the three Captain Jung carried strapped to her gun belt. Howie was real squirrely about his bracelet though, to the point where he never outright admitted it was a Metamagic focus, but he didn’t work all that hard at hiding it neither. More of that honesty, showing his cards without laying it all out plain and clear, a real awkward way of going about showing his trust. All that was neither here nor there though, so Sarah Jay refocused on the important issue at hand and asked, “This about the Spell Core?”
“Got it in one,” Howie said. “Wasn’t Ablative Armour. Work very hard to appear casual and not look shocked at all. Ready?” They both nodded, but they weren’t to know it was a lie, not until Howie declared, “It’s a Mage Armour Spell Core.”
“Holy fuck,” Sarah Jay whispered, before closing her mouth and elbowing Errol to make him do the same, because Mage Armour was a big score and a bigger payday just waiting to be cashed. “You for real?”
“Wouldn’t joke about it, not something big as this,” Howie replied, looking all serious for once. “So we got a choice. Sell it to the Rangers, or keep it secret and tell no one ever. I’m of a mind to sell it, even though losing access will hurt. My Mage Amour Spell ain’t worth much, but we get the right Artificer, and we could all be armoured up to the gills like we walking around in full-plate 24/7. Won’t always be enough to let you walk away unscathed from a direct Aetherarm hit, but might could keep you alive. For a better comparison, if Nate had been protected by a souped-up Magic Armour, he wouldn’t have needed Errol to stitch him together. Would’ve still gone down and bled some, but he’d be sitting out here with the rest of us now, instead of laid out in the medic’s tent all hopped up on painkillers.”
“Sell it then,” Errol said, and Sarah Jay turned to regard him with surprise. Shrugging, he explained, “The Rangers could make better use of the Spell Core than we can, especially right away. Needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”
“Huh.” Sitting there with a thoughtful look pasted across his face, Howie asked, “That from the bible? How come I never heard it?”
“No.” Looking sheepish all of a sudden, Errol explained, “It’s from something called Star Trek? Some show Father Nicolas used to watch, where people went into space and… I dunno. Did stuff. Said it was why he volunteered, because he wanted to go where no man had ever gone before.”
“Huh. Never heard of it.” Shaking his head, Howie turned to Sarah Jay and asked, “You feel the same way?”
“Yea.” For different reasons which left her feeling sour as could be, but they couldn’t keep it. Soon as word of the Core got out, and it inevitably would, it’d be like painting a target on their backs. Wouldn’t be just scavs looking to poach their catch, but mercenaries coming to recruit or rob them. “It’s a hot potate, and we don’t want to be the ones left holding it.”
That made Howie scowl something fierce, no doubt unhappy to be strongarmed into giving it up. “Yea, I figured,” he grumbled. “Just thought I’d run it by you both before I did anything.” Blinking twice, he put on a smile and said, “Look sharp. We got visitors.”
The Silence Spell fell away and the noise of the camp came roaring back, even though most were being quiet as could be. Their visitors turned out to be Tina, leading a small procession of boots and birds behind her. “Heya Howie,” Tina began, looking bashful all of a sudden as she cuddled a fat and contented kiccaw close. “Hope we’re not interrupting anything, but my friends had a lot of questions and I told them you’d probably have good answers for them.”
“Well then have a seat,” Howie said, turning on his rarely used charm with a smile. “Michael, good to see you again. Alfred, Ike. You there, never caught your name, but ain’t surprised you got more questions. Before you fire them off, what do I call you?”
“Saheed,” the Saudi boy replied, who claimed he was a prince of some sort, but assured them that his family’s bloodline was merely royal, rather than Immortal. “Sorry if I asked too many questions earlier.”
“Never be sorry for your curiosity, Saheed.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Howie added, “Besides, if anyone deserves it, it’s me. I used to pester anyone and everyone to teach me something about magic, just because I wanted to know more. Annoying as could be, but it paid off, so I can’t fault you for your questions, now can I?”
One by one, Howie got to know the rest of the boots Tina brought by, and even gave Ike a pat on shoulder while complimenting him on how well he could take a hit. Made Sarah Jay bristle to see Howie being all charismatic and likable, because he never bothered breaking out his charms for them, not after that first day. Then it hit her. He was being charming now because it was all an act. It didn’t come natural to him, and he had to work hard to be this way, but he didn’t bother with it in front of Errol and Sarah Jay because he wanted to show them the real Howie. A boring, long-winded fella who’d rather study than socialize, which wasn’t all that glamourous, but was entirely genuine. In his eyes, he was fixing to make them a part of his crew, which was why he didn’t want to lie to them and pretend he was someone he wasn’t.
Yea, the smiling, sweet-talking, story-telling Howie might be more pleasant to be around, but that wasn’t the real Firstborn, and Sarah Jay felt privileged to know he was comfortable enough to let it all down around her and Errol.
…Still be nice if he’d smooth out some of those rough edges. Just saying.
After a bit of chit chat to get them all comfortable, Howie went right for the jugular, conversationally speaking. “So,” he said, taking in the small crowd before him after making a face at Tina for sitting too close beside him. “What can I do you for?”
“Heard you were there recently, in Pleasant Dunes.” Never one to beat around the bushes, Michael dove right on into it, his eyes fixed on Howie’s with focused intensity. He was a real straight shooter, and would make an exceptional leader if he ever learned to think about anyone besides himself, or talk in anything besides monotone. Wasn’t that he was conceited or arrogant, but the only thing he cared about were his results, and pushing himself further to become a better Ranger. Granted, she might’ve been the same way before she met Errol, so maybe all Michael needed was to find the love of his life too. “Any idea what we can expect?”
“Tall towers, thick walls, and a decent layout for defense.” Shrugging, Howie added, “Does it matter? There are people that need help, and Abby what need killing. You’ll find out the rest soon enough.”
“But like, how bad is it?” Sally asked, twirling her brown hair around her finger. Sarah Jay wasn’t sure if she was trying to flirt with Howie, was just nervous, or both. “They’re Independents right? They like.. don’t recognize Federal authority or pay taxes or anything. They’re not even Ranger Affiliated, so it’s gotta be like, really, really bad if they’re asking us for help.”
“Technically, they didn’t. Ask, that is,” Howie clarified. “I was there, saw the signs, and brought word back to Captain Clay. He independently verified what I found, and made the decision to come out and help. As for how bad, well… the town is about to be attacked by a force coordinated enough to send a group out to ambush us, led by the infamous hobgoblin Illusionist that’s been roaming these parts for the last year or so. That’s about how bad it is.”
Howie fielded a few more questions while giving the same non-answers, but few reassurances, which was what most of them were looking for. A little encouragement, that’s all they needed, but he didn’t say word one to inspire faith or optimism the whole time, and Sarah Jay was at a loss on how to convey that to him without saying it outright. Turns out she didn’t have to, because Howie had good reason for acting the way he was. “Look,” he began, still smiling but clearly running out of patience. “If you here to hear me say, ‘It’ll be easy as pie’ or something like that, I won’t lie to you. It’s gonna be a hard fight, because they’re never easy. Every time you square up and draw, there’s a chance you won’t walk away. That there is a fact. All it takes is one wrong move, one wrong step, one wrong look, and you could wind up dead.” Shrugging, he added, “Ain’t nothin’ new really. That’s life on the Frontier. You know that. You should also know that the choice before you ain’t one of safety versus danger. It’s whether you choose to walk forward and face the danger with both eyes open, or turn around and walk away while pretending that same danger ain’t still staring you in the face. Watershed’s coming, and once it’s here, every settlement on the Frontier will come under attack, no two ways about it.”
“…Why?” Everyone turned to look at the speaker, and poor Antoni shrank back before all the attention. Which was a stark contrast from the wild-eyed shooter she watched gun down Abby with a grin. “I like… get what the Watershed is,” he began, and to prove it, he continued, “When the local Aether concentration levels rise to a-a point of uh, full saturation, but what’s that have to do with Aberration attacks?”
Blinking in surprise at the question, Howie looked around and found little support, not even from Sarah Jay. Most folks didn’t like talking about the Watershed, and whenever it was brought up, Mama would hush them quick and make the sign of the cross, as if it were something she could ward off with thoughts and prayers. Blinking in surprise, Howie didn’t say anything to make them feel bad, and just launched right into his explanation. “Well, Antoni covered the broad strokes more or less, but to answer the question, I gotta go into a bit more detail.”
Furrowing his brow as if deep in thought, Sarah Jay stopped to wonder what could be so complex that even Howie was having trouble putting words to it, but it turned out he was just Concentrating on a Spell. A Minor Illusion Cantrip, and for a moment, everyone just stopped and stared in complete shock, before bursting into laughter at the sight of Howie’s terribly depicted cup. Was worse than a drawing on a piece of paper, without any depth to it at all, just 3 thick sides of a rectangle hanging in the air to denote a 2-dimensional container. “Go on, laugh it up,” Howie said, playing up his displeasure for even more laughs. “Yea, real funny, the Firstborn can’t draw. Can’t all be perfect.” Rolling his eyes, he cleared his throat and said, “Okay. So pretend this cup is the Frontier’s metaphysical capacity for Aether, which pours in from the Immaterium.” A poorly drawn pitcher appeared above the cup, spewing animated blue lines that were meant to be water, drawing another round of chuckles which he spoke over. “Before the Advent and before Abby arrived, the base concentration levels of the Frontier were at the bare minimum requirement to sustain Aberration life. That’s why no one can cast any Spells higher than Third Order, because our environment can’t sustain it, and Abby hate that. That’s why the Proggies set about making it more pleasant for themselves soon as they arrived. No one knows from where, so don’t ask. Could be they came crashing down on a meteor which created the Divide, or maybe they stepped through a Gate of their own and came over from the old world. Could even be the other way around, but it don’t matter.”
The blue line denoting how full the cup was slowly rose, until Tina elbowed Howie in the ribs and threw up a much better Illusion of a glass wine cup and water pitcher so his bad drawings would stop distracting everyone from the message. Beaming ever so sweetly, Howie said, “Thanks Tina. Anyways, like I was saying, Abby like high Aether Concentration levels, so they set about raising them, which they do by drawin’ in and trappin’ ambient Aether. Natural Aether is formless and exists in a metaphysical reality overlapping our own, so to raise local concentration levels, Proggies crystallize that Aether and trap it in our physical reality, thus creating a void in the connected metaphysical plane that must be filled.” Tina depicted this by scattering ice cubes around the glass, lowering the volume of water inside the glass and the speed of pouring as she did. “This void causes Aether Levels to rise even faster,” Howie continued, “Because as far as we can tell, nature abhors a vacuum, and momentum carries a whole lot of weight.”
Pausing a beat to watch Tina’s realistic glass cup fill up with water, Howie waited until it was almost overflowing and surrounded by ice cubes to say, “Stop. See here? One more drop, and the water will spill over the rim of the cup, which is what we call the Watershed moment. When we reach this point, it means the Frontier is at full saturation, as Antoni said earlier, meaning the metaphysical reality overlapping our physical reality is incapable of holding any more formless Aether. The flow of Aether is moving so quick that it fills the entire space before Proggies can make a dent in it, but that ain’t enough for them. They want even higher Aether concentration levels, so they keep crystallizing Aether in an effort to draw more in, until…”
The pitcher resumed pouring and the water in the cup overflowed, only for four more cups to appear underneath and catch the resulting run off streams. “The Frontier’s capacity for Aether overflows and expands,” Howie declared. “No idea how or why or when it’ll happen, but it will in the next few years, and it’ll never drop below it’s previous maximum capacity, which means…?” No answer was forthcoming, so Howie continued, “Aether Concentration Levels will continue rise, but at an accelerated rate, because again, nature abhors a vacuum, and now there’s four times more empty metaphysical space than before. Well, not exactly four times, as this is just a visual demonstration and the real math don’t work out like that, but essentially the rate at which the Frontier gathers Aether from the Immaterium will increase exponentially for a time, until them bottom cups got enough water in them to level the speed off. This in turn means there will be a glut of Aether available for existing Proggies to draw on, which they’ll use to births smarter, stronger, Spellslingin’ Abby in rapid succession as well as more Proggies to send forth and conquer.” As Tina accentuated the point by animating tiny Abby gobbos swarming out from the base of the cups, Howie gave them all a look and said, “See why that’d be bad for the rest of us?”
Again, no one said anything, but that never stopped Howie before. “Good news is we’re pretty sure that once the Watershed moment hits, we’ll no longer be limited to Third Order Spells. Aether won’t stabilize right away, and there might be a time when the limit is Fourth Order Spells, before rising to Fifth and Sixth after a few months or years. No one knows for sure, because we ain’t ever seen a situation like this, so this is uncharted territory for everyone. Either way, there’s gonna be a whole lot of powerful Abby running rampant for a few weeks, months, or even years after the Watershed, and I doubt there’ll be a single place on the Frontier with more than two people that won’t get hit. Pound for pound, humans ain’t worth much in terms of biomass, but Proggies steal from what they eat, and ain’t no animal got brains like ours.” Looking around, Howie waited till he had their full attention again and concluded, “So like it or not, eventually you gonna have to fight. Better learn what you can while the stakes are low, so you don’t mess up later on when you got everything ridin’ on success.”
Which was pretty much what Captain Jung said, and reinforced the point they both made. Howie talked for a bit more before sending the others away, but he kept Errol and Sarah Jay close afterwards. “Was bout to get to the real good news before we was interrupted,” Howie said, once they were alone. “I’m pretty sure Captain Jung would let you both back into Basic if you asked real nice. I wouldn’t even have to do anything, because she’s miffed about losing you both and wants you back right quick. I strongly recommend you take this chance, and not because I’m looking to be rid of you both. I’d still pay you your cut, but it would sit heavy on my conscience if I didn’t stress how much safer you’ll be with the Rangers than riding with me.”
“Don’t seem all that safe,” Errol said, with a far off look in his eyes. “Just look at Nate.”
“You mean Nate who took a Bolt to the shoulder?” Howie asked, but he wasn’t done just yet. “The same Nate who underwent emergency field surgery out here in the middle of nowhere? The Nate who’d be dead if it wasn’t for your quick thinking and the Ranger medics on standby? That Nate?” Shaking his head after overcompensating for forgetting the man’s name, Howie said, “Lemme put it this way. Say it was just the three of us out here and I took a Bolt the same as Nate. Then what you gonna do? You’re the closest thing this crew’s got to a medic, meaning you alone would be solely responsible for keeping me alive.” Turning his gaze to Sarah Jay, he smirked and added, “Leaving you the closest thing we got to a Scout. How you feel about finding your way out this desert and back to Meadowbrook?” The blood drained from her face as she considered the scenario and realized she had no idea where they were, or how to figure out which way was straight West. The sun set in the south, so she knew the general direction to go, but being off by a degree or two could add days to their trip, days an injured Howie might not have, not to mention how impossible it was to move in a straight line with all the sand dunes scattered about.
And that’s without having to account for Abby, natural beasties, scavs, or bandits…
“Safety net,” Howie said, his smirk melting away to a grimace. “We don’t got one, can’t afford one, and might never could. Won’t have fully automatic rifles neither, not unless we loot them and keep them hidden when we head back to town. Or modify them ourselves, but that’ll be tricky, and risk fines or jail time if we found out.” Wasn’t talking to or at them no more, as Howie’s gaze went distant while reflecting on the road ahead. “Can’t keep a Mage Armour Spell Core, which means we won’t be able to keep any other expensive Cores we might find in the future. If we’d hunted down that hob, we would’ve had to keep it quiet until we got back to Meadowbrook to claim the bounty, and then everyone would be wondering what Core its corpse yielded, so we’d probably have to sell that too.” Blowing out a long sigh, Howie slumped over where he sat, and Sarah Jay hated to see it. All his swagger and confidence had been sapped away, and she saw her own self in what was left behind: someone who knew what had to be done, but wasn’t sure it was even possible.
“Not gonna lie, as my plans never got this far, so now I ain’t so sure about what to do.” The smile Howie gave was every bit as genuine as before, except now it was full of fear and uncertainty, not for himself or their safety, but for the future in general. “Been working so hard to stay ahead, and thought I could do it with a crew, ‘cept now things ain’t looking so bright. Too many limits to bein’ a civilian, and lot more hurdles to overcome than expected, so I’d say the smart money is on getting out while the getting is good. Hell, I’m half tempted to sign on with the Rangers myself, because I don’t see any other way to hack it.”
Except he never would, not after what they did to his daddy. Sarah Jay didn’t need to know him all that well to know that. She wanted to say something to assure him, claim they’d work it out together, but she knew the words would ring hollow before she even said them, because she didn’t know shit. Even with all his skills, Howie was having his doubts, so how could she refute them?
Still, he was the one who gave her hope when she thought there was none, so she ought to at least try and repay him in kind. “Whatever the obstacles before us,” she began, holding back a wince even as Howie did the same, “We’ll face them together. We a crew ain’t we?”
Wasn’t half as cringy as she’d thought it be, but still made her flush. Errol didn’t help none, sitting there all quiet and pensive, and as for Howie, he mustered up a ghost of a smile that turned genuine the moment it appeared, because he couldn’t help himself. “Sounds good,” he lied, nodding as he repeated himself with more conviction. “Sounds good.”
Well, Daddy used to say ‘fake it till you make it’, so maybe that applied here. Wouldn’t be no telling how they’d fare until they gave it a shot, so no point giving up the ghost before even trying, right? Besides, if anyone could do it, it’d be the Firstborn, and with her there to make sure he didn’t give up, then there was no telling what they’d accomplish.
“Which reminds me,” Sarah Jay said, hoping to bring up the mood. “What’re we gonna call ourselves? Crew needs a name, don’t it?” Clearly, Howie had never thought about it, nor had Errol, and somehow, they both arrived at the same conclusion.
To crack wise.
“We black, white, and yellow,” Howie said, unable to keep his smile from breaking out into a big ol’ grin. “So how about ‘The Multicolour Crew’?”
“Nah, check this,” Errol said, holding his hands up as if to paint the words in front of him. “Equal Opportunists.”
“Oh that’s got a good ring to it. What about, ‘The Diversity Hires’?”
“Bit too on the nose. Gotta be more subtle about it. Like… ‘Affirmative Action.”
It wasn’t what she was hoping for, but Sarah Jay was just glad to see her boys smiling and on the same wavelength again. For now, that’d have to do, and whatever tomorrow may bring, they would face it together as a crew, no matter how ham-fisted that might sound.