The bird can talk.

It was, perhaps, not the most unusual thing in the world, but it was unexpected. The bird was fluent in Standard, had a feather coat like a brown-and-shimmer-blue tuxedo, and sat on his head with quite a lot of politeness.

“Can you hold a conversation?”

“Mmyes. Now, the promised offering?” Isaac slid him a fried fishy delight, which the kookaburra took with grace in one clawed foot before nibbling away at it. Soon, Isaac’s hair was filled with crumbs, and the sounds of one very happy avian. “Delightful. I am Bird, occasionally Stupid Bird, or Get-off-my-head-Bird. And that up there in the rafters is my protege, young Andri. Since to this day he has refused to learn Standard, and other translators have proven unreliable, forces conspired to assign me as his interpreter.”

“Nice to meet you… Bird.” Was that a common name? Was it a joke? “And you too, Andri.”

<>

“He says it’s nice to meet you, and that he would prefer a vegan option if you have one.”

Isaac blinked. Between Bird and Andri’s texts, there was a lot going on. He wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers, but he also needed backup. He beckoned Sophia over, who after offering Bird a comfy perch, cooed and aahed as she gently patted his feathers.

“So Bird,” Isaac said as he rummaged around for a sandwich, “I’ve never met a talking bird before. Are you Andri’s familiar?”

“Pah. Nothing so trite. I wasn’t liberated from a rift, nor am I some magical critter that has had its mind stapled to his. Entwined is perhaps the better word, though with how stupid most familiars start out, It can hardly be called an equally symbiotic relationship.” He swallowed a big chunk of food and gurgled in appreciation. “I am just a bird. A smart bird, who has fed on nothing but mind-grubs and their essence until I reached the seventh tier.”

“You reached awareness by eating?” Sophia asked. “Why?”

“So I could translate for dear Andri here, and to get more babes. I shall spread the correct eating habits to kookaburras far and wide, and in turn they will flock to my magnificence. Look at my coat, look at my luster! So suave.”

“Uh-huh.” That checked out. Tiering up made twisty mink more twisty, humans more enduring, and ornery birds more ornery.

Claire had mentioned something about the influence of different essences, but brushed it off quickly enough as a thing that would confuse them at the time. Now he was worried that having only cultivated the essence of crab and whatever mystery stuff the government handed out for Tier 1 was going to have some unintended side-effects. He wasn’t growing chitin or thinking crab-like thoughts, but would he even notice if he was?

“Fret not,” Bird said as he finished the last of his food. “What paltry essence you have gained so far is always trumped by the essence you must gain to reach the next tier. Until then, an unbalanced diet can be fixed in all but the most egregious circumstances, assuming you make it that far. While any essence may be used to cultivate any aspect of yourself, some are simply more easily digested when used to build your mind, your senses, your body, or your mana.”

“That’s the four-soul theory,” Sophia piped in, “It’s a bit outdated, but the gist is that your core — what the elves call a soul — has four different parts which each take a roughly equal amount of essence to advance. Body, Sense, Mind, and Mana.”

“Ah. Right. The four-soul theory. The theory. That one.” Isaac tried to remember, tried and failed.

He felt Sophia’s eyes boring into the side of his head. “Isaac. You did do your homework, right?”

“Yyeees? Maybe? Some of it?”

She gave him the flattest of looks. “Claire would be so disappointed.”

“Studying is hard,” Isaac muttered, because ouch, hearing his sister say that hurt.

With a kimchi-gorgonzola sandwich in hand, he waved it up at the mink, who snatched it out of his hands before he could even open his mouth. Isaac watched him devour the sandwich in seconds.

“Hungry?”

<>

His stomach rumbled.

“I’m Isaac—”

“— I’m Sophia —”

“And we, uh, we do have more snacks if you’re hungry, Andri.”

The mink squinted at him.

<>

“Andri with a trill, nice to meet you.”

He squinted harder.

<>

<>

<>

It was such a small and casual detail heaped upon the others that made Isaac look to Sophia, to see if she was feeling the same unease he was. Claire had never let them go hungry. One shared glance, and they both sat down, taking out every last sandwich and old twizzler-sweets they had.

Andri peered down at them, then at the assorted food with wide eyes.

<>

“Oh, we just decided that we’re having a picnic. Can’t say I ever had one on a boat in the middle of the ocean. Care to join us?”

To emphasize the point, he waved a particularly succulent BBQ-and-beans sandwich, triangle cut, up at the mink. The bait worked, as Andri leaned over the side of his wooden perch and for a moment, Isaac thought he was going to fall off as he stretched and stretched.

Oh wow, he can stretch far for someone so short.

“You’ll have to come down if you wanna eat.”

There was a popping sound as at the flick of a switch, the catman’s arm extended down a few centimeters more, just enough to snag the sandwich at the end of a claw.

Did he just… dislocate a shoulder so he wouldn’t have to come down here?

That was… so stupid that Isaac was too stunned to even think to yoink the sandwich out of his reach. He was a little hurt too. Andri didn’t even seem to notice, or care for that matter.

Well, I guess if you’re fine with that, I’m fine — not.

“Sophia, please hold Bird tight.” He waited for the exact moment that Andri tossed the wrapper to the side.

One. Two.

The moment Andri bit down, a strong force slapped him straight off the strut. He twisted in mid-air, then — sandwich in mouth — landed on the wooden floor on all fours. His eyes were sharp as he stared first at Isaac, then at Sophia, as if he was expecting a follow-up attack.

“Well, you’re down here now. Care to join us?” Isaac asked with a happy grin.

+++

There was something to be said about picnicking on a boat. The ground moved ever so slightly, there were fruits in nearby crates and barrels that nobody would miss one or two of, and so deep below deck there was no threat of being interrupted by unwelcome visitors.

It was almost as if Andri had chosen this place on purpose.

Talk about antisocial. Then again, he is a mink.

“I must say, rarely am I ever treated with such kind reverence,” Bird said as he lay on his back, taking bites out of his quickly diminishing second snack.

<> Andri texted as he licked the sauce off of his fifth sandwich. Sophia was busy rubbing his fuzzy ears between her fingers, and he didn’t seem to mind the attention.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Good, ‘cause we’re not demanding any pay,” said Isaac. “We just packed a little too enthusiastically and needed someone to share it with. Isn’t that right Sophia?”

Sophia did her best impression of a bobblehead figure. “I’ve always wanted a cat. A catman — I mean, ugh. Can I please start over?”

Andri gave her his best long and piercing stare. Slowly, he reached for her sandwich, plucked it from her fingers, and began eating it too.

<>

“You’re weird too,” Isaac countered. “You’re traveling so light I can barely believe you have a spare set of clothes in there. Did you run away from home?”

He gestured to Andri’s backpack, which was already on the small side. It looked to be filled with air more than anything else, and no extra pairs of socks. If he had any weapons or tools besides his round blade-thingies, they would have had to be quite small to fit inside.

<>

“Mobility has always been important to young Andri,” Bird said. He was stuffed and looked so happy snuggled into Sophia’s arm. “Rarely have I been treated with such reverence. You have my vote for joining your group.”

Isaac blinked. “I didn’t even ask yet.”

“I am very empathetic. It was quite obvious. Additionally, Andri has been listening to the going-ons aboard the ship for a while.” He turned lazily to his side.“What say you, young man-cat?”

<>

“No?”

<>

“What can I say? Not everyone appreciates Mom’s cooking.”

<> He swallowed thickly, then pointed at Isaac with an edge of a sandwich. <>

Isaac sighed. Figures. “I was hoping for a bit of nuance.”

“You could simply lie”, Bird offered. “Deception is an efficient method for avoiding unwanted confrontations. Andri should know, he almost got to round three of the exam when he tried three years ago.”

“How many rounds are there?” Sophia asked.

“Five. Seven, perhaps? The most I’ve counted was eight, but that particular one had to be redone. Some scoundrel aristocrat thought he could buy off an adventurer’s aide without it blowing up in their face. For the record, that was their words, and the adventurers proceeded to blow their face up.”

Jeez. I knew adventuring can be harsh but… jeez.

Isaac turned to Andri. “Wait, you joined three years ago. How old are you?”

The catman blinked at him.

<>

He signed up when he was thirteen. Talk about balls.

Isaac’s estimation of Andri had been wavering for a while, but this solidified it. Of everyone aboard the ship, he was the most likely to be their third member. In his estimate, he was an asshole, but not in a bad way. He just really, really didn’t like people.

“Please join our team,” he blurted out. “We can give you more than just sandwiches. I’m tall and in the front, and Sophia’s a sneaky stabby-type. I think we’d make a good team, and three pairs of eyes are better than one, no?”

<>

He didn’t look the least bit guilty as he swallowed the last of his food.

<>

He pointed to Sophia, then Isaac.

<>

“It’s just a letter!” Isaac said, exasperated and tired of not showing it. “It doesn’t tell you anything. I’ve got a skill!”

<>

With a quick kick to the floor, Andri was up and ready in a loose stance. The rings at his hips clattered gently, and his eyes bore every hint of a challenge. He wanted to fight. He was completely serious.

And to be fair, Isaac did want to know where he stood below the average. He got up with less acrobatics, wiping crumbs off of his legs.

<>

“Sorry, but if you’re not using your weapons, then neither am I.”

<>

<>

“Assuming you’re telling the truth.”

The mink grinned and stuck out his tongue.

“C for cat?” Sophia asked.

“Don’t be silly,” Isaac said. “Obviously, it’s C for can I have more sandwiches?”

Andri groaned.

<>

“Oh, it’s on.” He circled the mink, watching for any opening. He seemed to be full of them, lounging in place in an almost relaxed manner, like he was about to tip over.

Then, out of his blindspot, he struck. Isaac’s quick hook swung inches away from Andri’s neck.

<>

He grit his teeth and pressed the attack, like Hammond had taught him. Up, down, left, left, right, left, and always keep the guard up.

<>

“Why are you so goddamn slippery?”

His next hit connected, but only because Andri punched it away with the palm of his hands, jabbing his wrist so painfully the mana he’d been channeling to cast [Cavitate] sputtered everywhere. Then he stepped into Isaac’s reach and before Isaac could grapple him, he had his foot hooked out from under him. He groaned as his back slammed into the ground.

There was a weight on his chest. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Andri was crouching down right on top of him.

<>

“You’re a C for cool.” The catman visibly and smugly preened under the praise. “You’re more than good.”

<>

“You are also cocky, young Andri,” Bird said. “One solid hit and you would have hit the floor like a bag of nuts.”

Andri growled and hissed something at Bird in cat-speak.

“Doesn’t matter if I can’t land the hits in the first place,” Isaac said. The catman hopped off, light as a feather. ”If you’re this good, then why are you hiding down here instead of standing out up top?”

<>

<>

<>

So, people had it out for Isaac because they thought he was easy pickings, and since he technically hadn’t made it to the start of the exam, they could do whatever they wanted. The circumstances almost encouraged it, because of course the adventurer association didn’t want to test seven million people individually. Inter-contestant competition was as much a sorting factor as cryptic hints in unusual languages, and some people likely thought their chances rose in turn with the amount that the chances of everyone around them fell.

And if the people on top of the deck were doing the crushing, well… Isaac’s already poor chances were starting to look dour.

“I wish Zach was here,” Isaac mumbled. “He’d know what to do.”

<>

“My brother, my idiot, genius brother. He’s got these ideas that make you think ‘hey, that’s crazy’, but then there’s his enthusiasm and that charm, and the more you think about it, the more his plans turn genius. If they work. We’re siblings, him, Sophia and I.”

Andri sniffed the air.

“You don’t smell like siblings,” he said as Sophia handed him an eighth

Isaac’s mind paused for a second. That was… was that a normal mink-thing to do, or even say? What else could he smell? Could he smell that Isaac only packed cheap deodorant? “I mean we are. Just not blood related. We’re orphans.”

<>

Andri scratched some crumbs from a thumbs-length scar running right from his chin.

<>

<<‘Learn ‘em young and learn ‘em quick’ is the motto.>>

<>

“You have a dad,” Isaac said. “And yet you live at an orphanage?”

“Yes?”

There was an awkward pause.

“We’re from Seagull Island,” Sophia chimed in. “Claire’s Orphanage. It’s fairly new, as far as orphanages go—”

Andri coughed, or perhaps spat a particularly mink-like insult.

<>

He practically whirled around, grasping Isaac by the shoulders. He could feel the claws poking through Andri’s gloves.

<>

“She’s our Mom, actually.”

<>

“She made fishcakes for us,” Sophia added, “and these sandwiches.”

For the first time since they’d met him, the cat boy looked at the pile of wrapped sandwich-triangles with guilt, as if he should have treated them better and savored them.

<>

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