“Believe it or not, I’m walking on air…”
Beaming bright beneath the blistering desert sun, Tina sang softly under her breath while accompanied by her little kiccaw. The round bird wasn’t just adorable, he was also a quick study when it came to songs, bouncing from side to side on her saddle horn as he chirped out the notes in perfect harmony despite only having heard the chorus once before. The kiccaws on Howie’s wagon were also chiming in, a bright and cheery orchestral accompaniment to liven up the trip which had her cheeks straining from smiling so hard. Chrissy would love these birds, no doubt about that, and Mama would too, even if they didn’t do nothing but bounce and sing the day away. Was a hard life back on the homestead; safe and fulfilling to be sure, but hard all the same, with an endless list of things to do that only grew with each passing day. A bit of feathered companionship would do much to buoy everyone’s spirits and break up the monotony of drudge work, so Tina was adamant on bringing these happy kiccaws home to roost.
No matter what Howie might say. All he could focus on was what direct material benefit the kiccaws could bring. Hmph. Shows what he knew, travelling up and down these parts for years with only money on the brain. There was so much out here to see and learn, things Howie and Uncle Ming never mentioned once in all their years of travelling. One trip out and Tina had a whole laundry list of ideas to bring back to Mama, things they could do as a family to help the community and earn money doing it. Mini-mammoths from the Emerald Plains would make a great addition to the farms, as they ate a lot less than horses but could plough fields and haul short distances just fine. Tuskwulves were pack animals that’d make great guardians for homesteads and herds of livestock, but it’d take dedicated work to domesticate them, dedication Mama had in spades. As for kiccaws… well, aside from singing and bouncing and looking mighty cute doing it, they wasn’t good for much. Ate grubs and seeds, neither of which farmers would like, and they’d have to be real careful about training them not to eat too many of Howie’s bees. Their feathers were too short for fletching and too prickly for bedding, but maybe their eggs would be good eating. Mama was always going on about finding a proper bird to domesticate instead of having to steal glittergeese eggs down by the lake, as they had a mean bite for a bunch of filter feeders and a dark yearning to use it.
Course Mama never worked too hard at domesticating livestock, as she was none too happy about how most were treated. Forcing birds to lay eggs every day or raising animals for the slaughter was bad enough, so they ought to at least get to live happy lives while they could, but most spent their days stuck in a pen, barn, or coop in less-than-ideal conditions. Wasn’t all farmers who treated their livestock poorly, but weren’t enough who treated animals half as good as they deserved.
…Hopefully Chrissy would spend more time playing with the wallies these next few weeks. They’d be mighty sad with no one to throw frisbees or string up treats for them to jump at now that Tina was on the road.
Now there was a sad thought to leave her feeling lower than bow-legged caterpillar, so she slowly and gently slipped a hand around her kiccaw and waited for permission to lift him. The little guy all but hopped into her palm, pressing his soft, round belly right into her with a chirp of delight. Holding the little guy close and nuzzling his head lifted her mood in half a tick, and her smile came back full force when he nuzzled her back with a vengeance. If Howie were here, he’d make a sour face and pithy comment about how animals loved her and hated him, but that’s only because he didn’t know the right approach. Always coming by and poking or petting them outta nowhere, without even bothering to make sure they were comfortable with his presence. Had more scars on his fingers than anyone else she knew, almost all of which came from marty bites. No respect is what it was, and a lack of good sense when it came to smaller animals, but least he knew better than to play around with horses. All thanks to old Tux no doubt, who trained Howie well, giving him plenty of love bites to correct his behaviour during their years together.
Patting the big, sturdy horse on the neck, Tina hummed a bar and slung a Bolstering Compliment Cantrip at old Tux, which got his hooves dancing in the sands as he plodded on. Ancient though he might be for a horse, he sure didn’t act his age, not now and not once the whole trip up to here. Was hale and hearty as any other horse, even them fresh-bred Ranger Stormbreeze Sorrels from out west which supposedly had more speed and stamina than the Destriers Mama used to breed and train. Old Tux wasn’t either of those, just a spotted, black and white wild horse Mama trained up for Uncle Ming, and the piebald became a part of the family over the years. Still had a whole lot of fight left in him too, a fire that put him a cut above the rest, as he still remembered his wild years and wouldn’t take no guff from any horse or rider. Kept trying to chomp on Kacey’s filly as they rode side by side, show the little lady he didn’t appreciate her stepping into his lane.
Wasn’t the filly’s fault, not really. Kacey wasn’t all that great of a rider is all, sitting heavy on the right which made her horse lean left to compensate, but Tina wasn’t sure if she should say anything. They’d only just started to get along after the better part of three months together in Basic, and she didn’t want to ruin it by overstepping. Pretty as a posey Kacey was, and prickly and prideful to boot, though not in a crabby or overbearing sort of way. Was just skittish and shy is all, which was why she was always on her best behaviour, plenty polite and awfully well-mannered. Made her seem cold and standoffish, but was just her natural defense mechanism is all, and Tina was happy to have a chance to slowly chip away at the other girl’s armour. Sure, Kacey’s little meltdown was awful hurtful, but it wasn’t entirely her fault, as the Fear Spell had her all out of sorts. Besides, Tina was plenty used to people being afraid of her, even if she ain’t ever done them any wrong, so it was all water under the bridge far as she was concerned.
Least it gave her a good chance to make friends with Kacey, and she loved making new friends. The trick here was to keep asking her questions, because while she never volunteered to speak or make conversation, she’d answer any and all questions because it was only polite. Nothing too hard or too personal, just little things like where she got her lovely cambric pants or the two-piece knee guards she wore over them. Had a pair of elbow guards to match, and bracers for her wrists too, all worn over her standard crème-coloured button up which gave her a real rough and tumble look without going full-on butch. Add in all the throwing knives and the twin short swords on her waist, and it was easy to see that Kacey preferred to fight up close and personal despite the adorable little bow she kept slung over her shoulder.
Which coincidentally was how Tina preferred to fight too, so they got to talking shop after making nice, and now they was chatting it up like two farmers at the feed store. Was nice having someone to talk to, not just for the company, but also to help her Concentrate on maintaining the Floating Disc Spell all morning long. Was a bit backwards, seeing how you’d expect a Spellslinger to focus on the Spell they Concentrating on first and foremost, but Mama, Uncle Ming, Uncle Teddy, and all the best and brightest said different. You wanted the Spell in the back of your brain, not at the forefront, because if you kept it at the front, you’d end up dropping it every time you got distracted by something new. Keeping it in the back of your head like a tune you humming while you work was the way to do it, allowing you to adjust to any and all surprises while still holding the Spell good and firm.
Which is why Tina spent the whole morning jawing away with the other girl, who was a wonderful listener and smart as whip too. Probably why they paired her up alone with Howie for so many days, because wasn’t no one else who could keep up, not even Tina. Staying focused and attentive for long hours wasn’t something she excelled at, and the exact opposite in fact, as she was too easily distracted by all the new and wonderful things around them. The plants, the animals, the sights and sounds, it was all so interesting she could barely go two minutes without marvelling at this or that. Would have been nice to include Sarah Jay in the conversation too, but she was deep in a one-sided exchange with Errol as he sulked in the driver seat of Howie’s wagon. A handsome enough fella he was, but too much of gloomy Gus for Tina’s tastes. Wouldn’t say boo to a ghost either, even one as vile and unpleasant as Richard, and the fact that he was being all racist and hateful in private only made it worse. Should’ve give that smarmy little scumbag a good beatdown the first time he so much as uttered a single syllable of bigotry, but Errol, bless his heart, kept his head down and lips buttoned so no one was the wiser. No one besides Sarah Jay, who was the only person he confided in, but Tina didn’t understand why Errol didn’t just stand up for himself.
She still felt terrible about the whole thing really. If she’d known Richard and his goons were even half as bad as they were, she’d have sorted them out herself right quick. A week of tasting nothing but soap would set anyone straight, and if that didn’t do the trick, she wasn’t above doling out a beatdown herself, or even tagging Howie in. Least most them troublemakers were gone now, and good riddance, except she couldn’t help but wonder what might’ve been if Howie had signed on for Basic. Probably would’ve put Richard in his place day one, or beaten him bloody day two. Really depended on how he responded really, as Howie was one to pay folks back in kind. Which was really his biggest problem; he saw relationships as transactional, give and take, and for the most part, they were, but he kept numbers on everyone he met like he was fixing to open a bank and liable to come calling to collect on every last emotional chit and marker he’d ever spent.
He hadn’t always been like that, especially not growing up, and Tina felt a pang of melancholy run through her as she spotted him making his way back to the wagon, his outline aglow in the soft, hazy light of his protective Spells and magically fortified gear. Her blues didn’t last as he was acting the fool, sitting atop his chestnut Fifi who was dancing on the spot, shuffling her long brown legs and white socks forward and back like she walking without moving forward one bit. “What are you doing?” Tina asked, doing her best not to smile and egg him on, but Howie was in one of his moods.
“Oh you know,” he replied, turning about with an impish smile. “Just horsin’ around.” Fixing a big, open-mouthed smile on his face, he pointed at Tina, then his prospects, and finally Kacey in hopes of getting a laugh, but all he got was an eyeroll and a scoff from Sarah Jay. “Psh.” Faking a scowl, Howie turned to face forward and maneuvered Fifi in between Cowie and Old Tux, forcing Tina and Kacey to make room. “Y’all ain’t got no sense of humour whatsoever.”
“Maybe it’s cause you ain’t half as funny as you think you are,” Tina retorted, happy to burst his bubble.
“Nah, that can’t be it. I’m hilarious.” Sucking his teeth, he shook his head and sighed. “Y’all just ain’t got the learnin’ to appreciate my level of intellectual sophistication is all. A lonely place it be, up here at the top.”
“Up on your high horse, more like.”
“That how it is?”
“You betch’er bottom dollar it is.”
“Okay.” Looking her up and down like he seeing her for the first time, Howie said, “All right then, let’s see how big them britches be. Pop quiz. Five. Four. Three…” While he counted down all too quick, Tina glanced around the caravan and committed everything she could to memory. This was a game they used to play with Uncle Ming, which was really an exercise for their brains. “And one.” Closing her eyes and covering them for good measure, Tina sat upright and waited for Howie’s question. “How many wagons we got?”
He was starting her off easy thinking she’d blurt out a number, but she wasn’t gonna rush and trip up. Wagons he said, which meant the Floating Disc sleds at the back of the caravan didn’t count. “Twelve.”
A grunt of approval was all she got, and for a moment, it was almost like she was riding with Uncle Ming again. “What direction we headed?”
Another easy one. “East-South-East.” Was snaking around a sand dune rather than up the side, which seemed a bit roundabout, but with Captain Clay leading the way, Tina wasn’t bout to second guess.
“How many boots we short from yesterday?”
“Eleven. Three wounded, and eight bailers.” Which was more than she expected, especially if Howie had wised up yesterday and given them all a pep talk. Wasn’t asking for nothing big, just a few words to soothe their nerves is all, but Howie played it cool and cryptic without saying much. As if that weren’t enough, Gabe and Steve somehow convinced Shane and Ned to head back and sign on with Richard’s daddy, some bigwig downriver. After finishing Basic of course, but all four of them made a big fuss about how they weren’t scared of the fight or nothing, they just had ‘issues with the leadership’. Good riddance, and it was a pity Tina would have to see them again back in New Hope, but still… four more boots had called it quits, including Sally who might well have stuck around if Howie had given her an ‘attagirl’. Last Tina saw, Gabe and Steve were really upselling Papa Aultman’s job offer, and Sally seemed open to listening, which was a real shame.
All of which could’ve been avoided if Howie wasn’t so thick in the head.
“How many Rangers in the crowd?”
The question threw her for a loop, and not just because she was distracted. “Um,” she began, before making a face, because Uncle Ming would’ve told her to think before she spoke. A lesson Howie never seemed to learn, but that was neither here nor there. Quick maths. Four Rangers left with the wounded, on account of the bigger than expected crowd. Ten scouting, two on point and eight to encircle. That left eighteen riding with the caravan, but Howie wouldn’t have asked this if more Rangers hadn’t slipped away. Or would he? He was mighty tricksy at times, so maybe he was lobbing another easy pitch to make her overthink it. “Eighteen,” she said, only to deflate as he sucked in a breath.
“Ooh, sorry,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his tone. “Correct answer is eight. You can open your eyes now.” She did, making a quick count to double check, and sure enough, more than half the remaining Rangers had gone missing. “Gotta stay sharp Songbird, even if you ain’t scountin’.”
Says the man who had his head down all morning, Etching away at a clay plate. “Fine,” she grumbled, unhappy but unable to argue the facts. “When you right, you right. This was fun and all, but how ‘bout I conjure up another Floating Disc so you can get back to Etching?” Truth be told, it wasn’t just to shut him up. It was nice seeing Howie sit still for once, all calm and tranquil like. Been a long time since she seen him like that, instead of itching to get back out on the open road. In the two years since he started riding solo, she’d only seen him a few days here and there during the year, maybe a week at most, then a couple months come winter. Even then, he rarely stuck around the house, always running off to do this or that while she was at school or home doing chores, so it felt like forever and a day since they’d hung out together like this. A big change from being thick as thieves, and she was only half-joking about sending him back to work, an offer made only because she knew he’d turn her down.
“Nah,” he said, proving her right. “Bad enough wastin’ one Spell while out on the road. Two would be unforgivable.” Never mind that he was the one who asked her to cast it, and he flashed his grin a beat too late to keep her from pursing her lips. Loved pushing her buttons he did, and she let him do it all too easily. Moving in close, he used a Mage Hand to pat old Tux on the nose and keep him from chomping on Fifi. Lowering his voice, Howie leaned in and said, “Lost more boots than expected though. Figured we’d be down five, maybe six. Eight ain’t much more, and most of them were walkin’ wounded, but it’s still something.”
The way he said it was so infuriating, like it was a spot of bad weather out of his control. “Shame really,” she replied in an equally quiet whisper, shooting him a look to let him know he was a fool. “If only someone had said something last night to boost their spirits, then maybe more of ‘em would’ve stuck around.”
“Yea, real shame no one said nothing.” Now Howie was giving her a look back, and Tina wasn’t so sure why.
Which only made her all the more frustrated. “Yea, someone like the Firstborn,” she hissed. “You always goin’ on about how you ahead of the rest, and you showed it too, so why didn’t you say nothing after I brung them all out to see you?”
“Three reasons really,” Howie replied, his lips pressed in a knowing smile which she hated, mostly because he was almost always right. “First off, I figured if they needed a pep talk, it’d be best coming from someone they know and respect.” The knowing look intensified, and Tina’s cheeks heated up as she picked up on what he was putting down. “Someone like the top boot in Basic,” Howie continued, not even giving her a moment to wallow in shame. “Being the best around don’t come with privileges. It’s a burden, because everyone expects more from you. Any slack is yours to pick up, because the rest of them are struggling just to hold on, so it’s high time you learned to step up.”
A hefty responsibility, but Howie always was the responsible one. “Still think it’d been better comin’ from you,” Tina said, pouting for all she was worth to tug on his heartstrings. “Me, I’m just a boot like them, so what do I know about leadin’?”
Didn’t work, as Howie’s heart had grown cold as ice these last two years. “Then you best get learnin’. Ain’t no cure for stupid, but ignorance we can fix.” Easy for him to say. Growing up around Howie meant eating a lot of humble pie, as he picked things up real quick. Had a mind like a steel trap he did, except when it came to stuff he didn’t care about, like names or social events. Could write out an obscure mathematical proof three pages long from memory, but couldn’t tell you the names of Danny’s little sisters without sweating a fair bit, and he was the closest thing Howie had to a best friend.
“Which brings me to my next point,” Howie continued, piling on without mercy. “You can lean on me this time around, and if you call, I’ll run day and night to come get you, but I won’t always be around when you need me then and there. Say I help you rally their spirits. Less boots leave and things go well. What about next time? What if they get cold feet again? What then?” Looking straight ahead, Howie adjusted his hat, and Tina wondered just what sort of face he was making. “You the Ranger prospect here, Songbird. Me, I’m just a wanderer, so best you get used to standing on your own two feet.”
There was more to it that he didn’t say, but Tina could fill in the blanks just fine. While she knew his decision to stay independent from the Rangers wasn’t personal, others wouldn’t see things the same way. Wayne wasn’t the only one holding a grudge against Howie, he was just the loudest. Lots of Rangers were none too happy about Howie’s decision, because he wasn’t just Uncle Ming’s son. He was Uncle Teddy’s student, the one and only apprentice to Marshal Theodore Ellis. A successor even, some might say, and they all thought the Firstborn would lead the first generation of Frontier Rangers. A future all but written in stone, until everything went to Hell in a handbasket after Uncle Ming’s untimely death and Howie refused to sign on for Basic a few months back. That’s what he meant about standing on her own two feet, not just as top boot, but as a Ranger. He didn’t want his situation affecting her none, because for many Rangers, you were either friend or foe, no two ways about it.
Which meant that some saw Howie’s refusal to join the Rangers as taking a stand against them, even if it wasn’t like that.
Much as she wanted to reach out to hold Howie’s hand, all he’d do is make a face and wave her off. Mean is what it was, since he always let Chrissy hold his hand whenever she wanted, and even did her hair to boot, so Tina didn’t understand why he wouldn’t do the same for her. Still, she didn’t want to upset him anymore than he already was, so she sat quiet and waited until he was ready to talk again. After a minute of heavy silence, he glanced over and smiled, one that didn’t hide his sadness one bit. “Anyways,” he said with a shrug. “Third reason why I didn’t say nothing to encourage no boots is simple really. Anyone who needed coddlin’ after yesterday’s cakewalk is better off headin’ home.”
See, this was why Howie didn’t have many friends. He didn’t see nothing wrong with what he was saying or how he said it. In his mind, he was just spitting facts, and anyone who didn’t like what they was hearing was just too ashamed of the truth. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but no one liked having their sore spots poked and prodded, much less when it’s done in broad daylight. Least he wasn’t being too loud about it, but Tina spotted Kacey slumping down in her saddle to cuddle Inari tight. Leaning over to pat the girl’s shoulder, Tina got herself a small but grateful smile in thanks, which just went to show Kacey wasn’t as cold as she appeared.
Howie didn’t notice of course, too busy tooting his own horn about how he wrangled all them Abby and served them up on a platter. “Yea, it don’t get much easier than yesterday,” he concluded, shaking his head with a renewed smile after stroking his ego a good bit. “Besides, what’s there to be scared of? We got twenty-eight Rangers ridin’ shotgun on this here expedition, almost a Company and a half led by three Captains no less, which means we safer than most towns East of the Highway.”
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Which was a good point, one Tina wished she’d thought of yesterday. The whole Eastern Front only had fifty companies total, or little less than a thousand Rangers to guard it, so having a full Company and change right here was pretty big. Twenty-eight guns might not mean much against hundreds of Abby, but twenty-eight Rangers was enough to kill thousands if given time enough to prepare, especially with three out of ten local Captains added into the mix. The Rangers were the best of the best, the only government outfit on the Frontier who dared to operate in standard Strike Teams of five, because any more was typically overkill for most situations out here.
Didn’t change the facts none, but Tina was feeling better about losing Sally, Shane, Ned, and the others. Howie was probably right like always, and it was kinda funny too. Thems that left had done so because they were scared of what lay ahead, but the three wounded and eight bailers only had four Rangers to guard them the whole way back, whereas if they’d stuck around with the convoy, they’d have seven-times that number of Rangers to watch their back. There was probably a word for that, or a saying that Howie could pull out of his pocket, but Tina couldn’t think of one that fit.
“Alright everyone. Check your gear,” Howie said, after a few more minutes of riding. Wasn’t quiet about it neither, raising his voice so the whole convoy could hear. “Make sure you got what you need on you, not stowed away in your saddlebags.” Earned him a dirty look from Drill Sergeant Begaye, not because Howie was out of line, but because the surly, salt-and-pepper instructor believed it was best for boots to make mistakes and pay dearly for them, rather than ‘coddle’ them like Howie just did. Now there was a first, someone who thought Howie was soft, and Tina gave the Drill Sergent her best and brightest smile so as not to get on his bad side.
Didn’t do her any good, as his scowl only darkened when he saw she wasn’t checking her kit, so Tina averted her eyes and got to work. Water, ammo, hatchet, knife, rations, and more, she double and triple checked her gear as best she could. Even had Danny’s flashbangs stowed away in an easy access pouch, ready to be primed and thrown as needed. Howie was the same, though he didn’t need to check nothing as he carried everything on him at all times despite rolling around with an armoured wagon. Was a good habit to keep, because you never knew when you might get separated from your mount or have to ditch your wagon, and Howie was nothing if not a stickler for good habits.
Not big on explanations though, as he kept mum as to why he made his suggestions, one that sounded more like an order than anything else. Yea, Howie would’ve fit right in here in Basic, and Tina’s heart warmed to see it, while at the same time was also saddened by the fact that he’d be leaving again after Pleasant Dunes. That’s what most folks didn’t understand. Howie loved the Rangers, wanted to be one more than anyone else, but he couldn’t bring himself to join the organization that disavowed his daddy. They disrespected his daddy, so joining would be doing the same, and there was nothing Howie could do about it. Truth was, Tina wasn’t so sure about joining up either, but Mama and Howie both convinced her that there was nothing wrong about it, and that Howie was just being stubborn and extra is all.
Wasn’t right what the Rangers did to Uncle Ming, taking away his badge and trampling over all his years of good work. Called him an ‘auxiliary’, a mercenary by a different name, so Howie figured on becoming just that. He still planned on working with the Rangers, just refused to do it for base Ranger pay, so they’d feel the pinch every time they employed him. Like how Wayne did, seeing Howie cooking up his own batch of Abby and pocketing the profits for himself. Proved Howie’s point too, because Uncle Ming worked for fourteen years and never took a dime more than base Ranger pay, meaning if he was an auxiliary, then the Rangers shorted him big.
Wouldn’t change nothing, not in the long run, but Howie was determined to see it through. That’s just how he was, stubborn and intractable as a marty once he sunk his teeth into something.
A few minutes later, Drill Sergeant Begaye gave the order to dismount and hitch their horses and wagons at the base of a dune. Only one other Ranger stopped with them, a fella from Meadowbrook Tina didn’t recognize, while Captain Jung led the rest away. As for the boots, they were broken up into three groups led by the Drill Sergeant, the Ranger, and Howie. Tina was with him, and so were Errol and Sarah Jay, with Kacey, Ike, Antoni, and Saheed rounding out their number to eight. Smaller than the other two groups, but enough to show that the Rangers trusted Howie enough to not only look after himself, but seven others. That right there was the difference between the Firstborn and the rest of the boots, one Tina was both proud and envious of.
“All right boots,” Howie began, keeping his voice low and quiet. “Stealth is the name of the game, so mum’s the word and Bob’s your uncle. Y’all got your camo blankets?” Saheed didn’t, so Howie sent him back for it with a shake of his head. Nate probably would’ve forgotten his too, and the reminder of his absence was a real downer, which was compounded when Howie met her eyes and said, “No wonder you top boot.” Made her bristle to hear it, especially when he followed up with, “Don’t let that make you complacent. It don’t matter how you measure up against other boots. You looking to join the Rangers, so measure yourself against them instead. It’s a long road ahead, but ain’t nothing to do but take it one step at a time.” Said it for the whole group to hear, and gave Errol and Sarah Jay a look to remind them of what they discussed last night. Work hard at working harder, those were words Howie lived by, and he expected the same of everyone else.
Wrapped in their camo blankets, Howie rattled off a bunch of instructions before leading them up the sand dune, walking halfway then dropping to his belly to crawl with his rifle in hand. Tina and the others followed suit, inching their way up slowly until they was almost as the peak when Howie signalled for them to stop and come in close. Prone in the sand beside him, she was close enough to hear him butcher the Latin chant for a Spell she wasn’t all too familiar with, so she watched with rapt attention.
It was always a treat watching someone work new magic, but Tina never could quite describe it. It was just… nice is all, a treat for the senses, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, or the smell of fresh baked cookies wafting through the house, only more. She couldn’t so much see or feel the magic as sense it, a cozy shift in the world around them no different from feeling the breeze move through your hair. Aether was always flowing, but most people couldn’t perceive it, so how was she supposed to explain how it felt? Wasn’t no tingle or bright lights, no stream of warmth or cold, no smells, sounds or tastes to describe, just a low and gentle energy that was ever present. It mingled with the wind, interlaced itself in light and shadow, harmonized with sounds and blended into every smell and taste. It wasn’t any one of the five senses, but part and parcel of them and more all at the same time, wholly indistinguishable from her everyday life. For Tina, things had always been this way, so she didn’t know what it was like for anyone who couldn’t sense the Aether and hoped she’d never have to find out.
There was a calm cadence and measured flow to Howie’s chanting, one that was quite soothing if you ignored what he was saying. Drawn to his movements, streams of Aether surged towards his left hand as he slowly waved it back and forth, like a snake slithering through the sands. The Spell took shape in a series of pulses over the next half minute, emanating out from Howie and settling around him like a light blanket thrown over his head, a leisurely and lethargic process that seemed natural as breathing. There on the sand dunes, they became one with their surroundings – no, one with the shadows, shadows cast by their camo blankets which clung tight to their frames and obscured them from sight.
A wonderful Spell it was, not an Illusion like what she would’ve used to hide them, but an obstacle, solidifying the shadows and smoothing them out for them to hide within in way that probably didn’t look out of place at all. Glancing around, she couldn’t see nothing different with her naked eye, likely because she was inside the Spell’s effect, and she wondered if the other boots even knew Howie was hiding them in plain sight. Probably not, and once again, Tina was reminded of the upsides to being Innate, upsides she did her very best to focus on so as not to be brought low by all the drawbacks.
Like the look in Errol’s eye when he found out she could cast Madness. One she’d seen plenty of times before, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
Lost in the wonder of Howie’s Spell and her innermost thoughts, Tina was a beat late following Howie up over the crest of the hill. Got sand in every nook and cranny doing it, crawling on her belly like she did, including ones she didn’t even know she had, but it was a short jaunt up to the peak where they stopped and settled in to rest. Was a big stretch of flat desert in front of them, one walled in by a series of wide, sloping dunes, each one big enough to make her legs ache at the thought of cresting them. A pretty enough place, with more vegetation than she expected, but the Coral Desert wasn’t technically a desert, according to Saheed at least. Was more of a shrub steppe, whatever that meant, with enough rainfall to sustain the odd patch of green brush and purple shrubbery. Still plenty of sand to go around, but a coarse, stone sand, more like pale-pink pebbles than fine grains, which made things all the more uncomfortable when it settled in under her clothes.
No one said nothing, even though Howie had yet to explain just what it was they were here for, nor did it seem like he was going to. Instead, he stretched out his left arm to gently turn Errol’s rifle so the barrel was pointed forward instead of diagonally, while silently signaling for Antoni to do the same for Ike on the other side. Unlike Ike however, Errol took the correction personal, scowling something fierce at the back of Howie’s head. His scowl grew even darker when Sarah Jay patted his hand, and Tina could smell something bad brewing there. Seemed like Howie wasn’t the only one getting tired of his prospects, as Errol wasn’t handling Howie’s abrasive personality any better. Meeting Sarah Jay’s eyes, Tina gave her a look of sympathy laced with just a touch of pity, and the dark-eyed brunette wrinkled her nose just a touch. Boys will be boys, was what she was saying, and Tina had to agree. Unfathomable creatures is what they were, butting heads one moment and cracking jokes the next, and you never knew what you were gonna get.
The thundering crack of a gunshot rang out in the distance, and Tina almost bolted upright. She wasn’t the only one either, and while most managed to stay low, Saheed pretty much jumped to his feet and earned himself a hard stare from Howie as he laid back down. “Easy,” he whispered, once Saheed was back in place, and Tina was captivated by how the shadows sank back down around the middle-eastern prince. “We spectators today, so safeties on and weapons down.” Errol, Ike, and Kacey were the offenders, and they all deflated in place, but Howie paid them no mind as he pointed towards their ten o’clock at a sand dune about two klicks away. “They’ll likely come out there, between those two dunes, and the opening is where the action’ll be. Watch close, and if you can, focus on the Spellslingers, because they’ll be doing most the heavy lifting.”
As Howie reached up to adjust his hat, Tina felt the strum of his medallion firing up, indicating he meant to record the fight. Would be nice if they could watch it right back, but she had yet to learn Mama’s trick of watching videos right off the crystal, much less playing them back for others to see. Howie’s wagon didn’t have a way to play back the videos either, so unless Pleasant Dunes had a Major Illusion Spell Core setup or a television set, then they’d have to wait until they were back in Meadowbrook to watch the recording. Made it all the more vital that she not miss a thing, so she hunkered down and kept her eyes peeled on the corridor Howie pointed out while shots continued to ring out. Not the rat-tat-tat of sustained fire, but potshots pinging off every couple seconds, which meant the Rangers weren’t fighting so much as herding.
Despite Howie’s assurance, Tina felt her shoulders tense up as the minutes rolled by, and she knew she wouldn’t be the only one. Howie didn’t feel the pressure none though, he was cool as a cucumber as he lay beside her, his face completely hidden under his camo blanket and body relaxed as can be. She couldn’t help but lean into him for a bit of comfort, and for once, he didn’t shy away, briefly pressing his shoulder against hers to say everything would be all right.
Then five Rangers came galloping out from the opening Howie had pointed out, followed by a dark green tide of Abby.
Gobbos, orcs, and bugbears surged out onto the flats in droves, their individual forms difficult to make out but the disparity in their sizes unmistakable. While impossible to nail down a number any closer than ‘hundreds’, it was clear the single Strike Team was vastly outnumbered as a long trail of Abby chased after the plucky five. There were more Rangers about, she knew this much, but she didn’t know where or why they had yet to act. Three seconds passed, then five, and ten, and twenty, but still the five Rangers fought alone, firing away from the back of their galloping horses in a not-so-merry game of hot pursuit. They weren’t even running in a straight line away from Abby, but zig-zagging left and right until their trail of Abby was more like a sinuous snake, a line that lasted all of a heartbeat as more Abby poured in hot on their heels. The snake became a giant blob, with short tendrils extending out towards the various Rangers who’d split up completely, each one galloping off in a different direction and spreading the Abby horde out. Was like painting the valleys in ugly green, except using Abby instead of brush and ink, and Tina watched the professionals ply their trade with wide eyes and bated breath.
Even from so far away, she sensed it before it happened, a full second in advance. Formless Aether pooled in to the targeted areas across the battlefield, so much so that you didn’t need to be an innate to feel it, and she sucked in a breath of air in dread and anticipation. Her skin prickled despite not being the target, and she fought the urge to run, hide or flinch. A second of warning might seem like a long time, but she’d wasted half the time just deciding what to do, meaning if she were point blank in the area of effect a full second might as well be no warning at all. Was still considering all the angles when the Spell completed and the sands lit up in blaze of flame, heat, and smoke. Six incandescent hemi-spheres of scorching conflagration materialized before her very eyes, which went wide with awe to see it. An instant of fire and light, that’s all the Spell delivered, so short you could blink and miss it, only to open them again and see sheets of glassed sand under piles of smoking Abby.
“Fireball,” Tina whispered, and she heard several boots gasp in response, but how could they have mistaken it for anything else? Sure the name was a touch misleading, as most pictured the Spell as a literal ball of fire thrown by the caster. That was Fire Orb, and the real Fireball was much more impressive. A Spell synonymous with battle, and one iconic in deliver. It started with a raised, open palm to the skies. Like grabbing sunlight the motion was, closing your hand pulling it down and out of the air while pumping a fist, before letting your arm spring back out with two extended fingers pointed at the target you wanted to hit. Add in a chant of “Incendo – Magna – Invoko”, or ‘I invoke the Great Fire’, and that’s all it took for an accomplished Third Order Magus to unleash a single moment of fiery destruction upon the area in question, a blossoming inferno that superheated an area for a single, red-hot moment.
A six-metre radius sphere, that was Fireball’s base area of effect, and far as she could tell, every last one of those Fireballs had been Metamagicked to double in size. Small chance of getting away from the Spell even with fair warning, not unless you started running the moment you spotted a caster raise their open palm to the skies. Most usually did, as the movements and the chant had been popularized by some old world war movie, though you could really use any words or motions you wanted. Either way, the effect was devastating as can be, and the Rangers’ alpha strike broke apart the thick horde of Abby into a sea of smoking corpses and a smattering of burned bugbear survivors, with maybe a lucky scorched orc or five thrown into the mix. Happened sometimes, as the heat wasn’t exactly uniform across the Spell’s area of effect, and if you were real lucky or real good, you could avoid the brunt of the damage just by standing in the right place. Could also take cover under obstacles or wrap yourself in Augmented protective clothing like Howie’s duster. Jumping also helped, since the heat started from the skies and came down like a hammer, but that was more of an option of last resort than actual advice.
No, the best way to survive a Fireball was to not get hit by it, which was easier said than done. Had to be real quick to cross six or twelve metres in a single second to reach safety, assuming you were standing at ground zero, and Tina wasn’t even sure if it was possible.
A human army would’ve turned tail and run after taking so many casualties, but the Abby horde pressed on undeterred. The tide of goblins, orcs, and bugbears continued pouring into the flats, trampling over the corpses of their fallen and shards of superheated glass underneath. Thanks to the vast swathes of death unleashed by their hidden allies, the initial Strike team had plenty of breathing room and stopped running to plink away at Abby while standing firm against the horde. They started maybe half a klick apart, but it didn’t take long for the gap to close, and Tina wondered how many more Fireballs it’d take to clean up the job. Wouldn’t be no answers though. Instead, the Rangers switched to a more efficient manner of defense as the remaining members of the Company and teaching staff emerged from hiding all around the bowl to drop Entangling Growths, Moon Beams, Fire Clouds, and other sustained Spells. Some of the Rangers had been fully Invisible, like Tim laid out prone high on a dune and gunning down at the horde from afar, but most had simply been covered by camo blankets just like she was, which left them indistinguishable to her naked eyes and magical senses both. Couldn’t even sense the Aether working through them, and the only thing that gave those Rangers away was the muzzle flash from their rifles, most of which were semi-auto, but there were a few stand-out weapons like the two rapid-fire machineguns. Those made quick work of the Abby in front of them, hammering noticeable dents into the blob from either end with quick bursts of staccato fire. For a few seconds at least, before running out of ammo, and the horde continued to surge out towards the Rangers in a slowed but steady advance.
The gunfire continued unabated, including the machine guns which reloaded right quick, but the horde pressed on without fear. In this opening minute, more Abby had died than what showed up for yesterday’s battle, but there were still plenty more pouring in. Inch by inch they advanced through the Spells and gunfire, and for a second, Tina wondered if the Rangers had bitten off more than they could chew. When the horde was only fifty metres away from the firing line and looking to keep going, Marcus stepped out front and centre. Tina could tell it was him because his figure dwarfed the horse beside him, but that was all the time she had for idle thoughts. Aether surged from all directions to gather round as he lifted his foot and slammed it down, turning the whole area in front of him into a churning mass of quivering sand. Looked like boiling brown water from afar, but any Abby caught inside didn’t sink beneath the depths. Instead, their bodies were crushed and torn apart by the roiling sands turned deathtrap within the field of Erupting Earth, one which stretched a good thirty metres from end to end no matter how you measured it. Now there was a Spell that wasn’t just Metamagicked, but further stretched and elongated to more than four times its original area, which proved that even though Marcus Clay wasn’t the best Spell Slinger this side of the Divide, he was easily in the top ten.
That said, the field only churned for a moment and not a second more before freezing up in a jagged, nigh impassable area of hardened spiked sand. Wasn’t enough to stop the oncoming horde from trying to push though, only slow them and send the bulk of the remaining Abby to circle around to the sides. Bunched them up nice and tight in a long, fat line as they approached alongside the difficult terrain, one which made them perfect targets for a beam Spell. As if on cue, two giant shafts of crackling lightning burst out from the Rangers fighting position to cut clean through the lines of approaching Abby. Lit them greenies up good and proper, electrifying them where they stood, and Tina was wholeheartedly impressed by how many bodies dropped when the lights went out. Those two Spells probably dropped half as many corpses as six Fireballs, so while Lightning Beam was undeniably a less popular and more situational Third Order Evocation Spell, when the setup paid off, it did so in spades.
“You see Captain Jung there?” Howie asked, speaking loud enough to be heard over the din of battle and no longer afraid of being found out. Was directed at Errol, but Tina glanced over at where he was pointing all the same, and let out a gasp as she watched a burst of Aether comparable to a Fireball emerge from the stocky, unyielding Ranger standing at the top of a dune.
Then another gasp when it happened again five second later. And again, and again, just like clockwork.
“All she’s doing is shooting her rifle,” Errol said, and Tina’s eyes widened in disbelief, until she remembered he couldn’t perceive Aether like she could.
“Watch her left shoulder. You see all that displaced air? Right there. Like a heat haze in the distance, only shootin’ horizontal instead of floating upwards.” Howie waited a beat, no doubt for Errol to nod, before continuing, “That Errol, is Captain Jung firing sixteen First Order Bolts in a burst.” Then he paused again, because Howie loved big reveals, before nonchalantly adding, “Which she’ll do every five seconds, over the course of a full minute. At the cost of a single Third Order Concentration Spell mind you. That’s a hundred and ninety-two Bolts delivered in total, which I wager is faster than you can empty and reload that El-Minister six times, much less seven. All while she free to shoot or sling other Spells too. Not bad for a manually casted Bolt, huh?”
“How?” Tina asked, and Howie pulled his camo blanket down to reveal his grin. “That don’t make a lick of sense, not one bit.”
“Glad you asked.” Wiggling back so he could talk to them both at the same time, Howie explained, “Y’all seen how she can fire off four Bolts in a single cast, right? Well, the great thing about Bolt is that it’s the foundation for a bunch of higher Order Evocation Spells. What Captain Jung is using here is a Second Order Spell called Burst Bolt, which fires off three First Order Bolts in a volley, bang-bang-bang. Because she so good, each one of them Bolts turns into four, so it’s twelve Bolts per volley. Upcast at Third Order, and the Burst Bolt Spell gains an additional First Order Bolt, which is how she get sixteen total.” Rubbing his hands while watching the Captain with a hawk-eyed stare, Howie shook his head and continued, “That ain’t good enough for Captain Ava Jung though. No, she took things a step further and figured out how to maintain the Burst Bolt Spell and turn it into a repeating effect. This ain’t just a qualitative change like what Captain Clay just did with his Erupting Earth, making the area of effect bigger. She took an Evocation Spell, a school of magic based around being quick and dirty, and turned it into a sustained effect that deals more damage than a Fireball. That’s the gold standard of all Evocation Spells, and she did more than surpass it. She crushed it. That right there is a feat several orders of magnitude more difficult than anything I ever seen from anyone besides the Marshal, and is why she’s regarded as one of the most powerful Evokers on the Frontier, if not the most powerful bar none.”
Transformative. That was the word for Captain Jung’s accomplishment, a Transformative Spell. One which had been pushed so far beyond it’s base limits it was essentially a different Spell altogether. If Captain Jung could nail down the Formula for a fixed Spell Structure applicable to her modified Burst Bolt, then anyone with formula could cast a sustained Burst Bolt same as hers, without having to go through all the motions of tweaking it manually on the fly. A feat generally reserved for Immortal Monarchs mind you, alongside a few standouts like Sir Issac Newton or John Von Neuman, which only made Captain Jung’s accomplishment all the more impressive. In comparison, Howie’s ability to cast Mage Hand and split the one hand into two was nothing, a parlour trick at most, but he always said that he’d transform them into real hands one day, hands with real substance behind them so they wouldn’t come apart at the seams every time he used them to fire a gun. Was a long way off from that dream, but even if he accomplished it, making a Cantrip a slight sight more useful was nothing compared to creating a magical machine gun that averaged out to more than three Bolts a second.
“How’s she aim it?” Tina asked, and she started when Howie’s gaze snapped onto her. “Them Bolts. She firin’ off sixteen at a time, so how she have time to aim them and do anything else?”
“Beats me,” Howie replied, with a thoughtful look in his eye. “Can’t even sling multiple Bolts yet, so how am I supposed to know how she aim them?”
“So there are things you don’t know,” Sarah Jay said, chiming in from the other side of Errol. “Good. Was startin’ to wonder.” Strange for a simple joke to put Errol in such a foul mood, one that came and went in half a breath, but one that was there all the same. Jealousy perhaps, though Tina couldn’t see why that’d be, as anyone with eyes knew that Sarah Jay was head over heels in love with Errol. Girl dropped out of Basic for him despite being on a fast-track for Sharpshooter and Officer, so if that wasn’t enough, Tina didn’t know what was.
It was such a romantic tale, a beautiful heroine standing by her man no matter the cost. Errol just better appreciate it, because weren’t many ladies as bold and brave as Sarah Jay.
Inwardly shaking her head, Tina turned her attention back to the battle, which was slowly winding down. In the meantime, Howie lectured them on the different battle styles of various government outfits, starting with the Protectorate who loved their melee combatants covered in layers of fancy Ablative Armour. Chevaliers were a shoot and scoot sort, with a big emphasis on the scoot as they loved them their magical beasts. The Catholic Templars were all about volume of fire delivered by laymen bolstered with a generous sprinkling of wide-area support Spells, while the Pathfinders liked their arrows and mechanical traps and doodads. “The Rangers though,” Howie said, finally getting to the meat and potates of things, “They don’t got a set style, because they can do it all. Usually not as well as the specialists, but their strength is in their versatility, being able to adapt to the situation as needed with whatever equipment is available. That’s why they the tip of the spear, because they don’t need to sit around and wait for gear, support, or specialists. They can get up and go in with nothin’ but the guns on their hips and make a good go of it regardless of what they up against, a strength that really shines out here on the Frontier. Got no tanks, planes, satellites, golems, or powered armours, so the Spellslinger reigns supreme.” Standing up and brushing the sand off of his shirt, Howie looked them all over as they did the same. “That’s why y’all need to set your sights higher,” he said, fixing on Tina, Errol, and Sarah Jay in particular. “You wanna be Rangers, or Ranger equivalents? That means learning multiple specialties, enough to get by at least, so we all got a lot of work ahead of us.”
Then, because he was Mama’s best student, Howie grinned, smacked a couple hands and shoulders and said, “But we’ll make it there eventually, so long as we don’t quit, and there ain’t no quit in us. We a different breed we are, tougher than them old worlders. They all had to adapt to this life, while we don’t know any other kind. We’ve lived and breathed the good, the bad, and the ugly, so we know what’s what. We Frontier born, one and all, and I’d say that’s something to take pride in.”
It hit Tina like a cold shower on a hot day, and she couldn’t help but exclaim, “There it is!” Seeing Howie’s look of confusion, she explained, “The name for your crew. Frontier Born.”
It took a second to get there, but the grin on Howie’s face was as real as it gets, all big, bright, and toothy. “There it is indeed, Songbird,” he said, throwing an arm around her shoulder for a quick but all too brief hug. “The Firstborn’s Frontier Born. Love it.”
“I hope this don’t affect our Callsigns,” Sarah Jay said, as Howie led them back down the dune to their waiting horses. “I for one would rather not have a ‘born’ theme to our names, as ‘Igloo-born’ don’t got that nice ring to it. Neither does what, River-born? Church-born? Ship-born?”
“Don’t give him any ideas,” Tina said, skipping along behind Howie and all too happy to have been a help. “Though I suppose he can’t do much worse all on his own.”
Basic was so much more fun with Howie along. Was a real shame he wasn’t gonna be a Ranger, especially since he probably wanted it more than anyone else. It is what it is, but like Howie said, there was still a long ways to go. Who knew what the future had in store? Maybe there’d come a day when Tina joined the Frontier Born too, because come hell or high water, family always came first.