Sailing Ether Tides
Ch: 32 Learning To Fly
On a boulder strewn hillside, they reconvened to plan the next step in comfort. The kids once more performed their more elaborate ritual, with perimeter ropes and a prolonged set up.
All the animals had been released from their tack and let loose to roam in a corral with Ester, while the kids performed their rite on the only piece of flat ground in the area. They even encroached on the road, where the carriages were parked, simply encompassing the vehicles in their preparations.
The horses snuffled and shifted with excitement at the early break; no doubt they were also pleased to be a mile away from the titanic conflict raging on the other side of the granite massif.
When the barn and hay crib appeared they frisked abominably and were entirely too obvious about their enthusiasm for a short day.
“There’s an old mining road that rings the valley… no good for coaches or wagons but it was passable two years ago.” Dannyl told the group.
“I’ve wandered these hills a little bit so I’m confident we can get around them. Our friends should also have scared off pretty much every mobile creature in the area, so we can expect minimal monster and beast activity…”
The young man sketched out a proposed marching order, route and timetable, followed by a few concise instructions.
“...we will be operating on a three buddy system, no one goes off alone, trios at minimum. The horses will be totally dependent on us, so look after your mounts and be conservative.”
Nods and soft noises of agreement circulated in the room, as the nobles and their guards conferred, with one notable exception.
“Her imperial radiance cannot sit astride some mangey, flea riddled…” Dermaptera began, raising his voice in outrage when he saw where things were going.
The frosty glare he received from the empress made his knees quake and his mouth become simultaneously desert dry and overflowing with the drool that heralded nervous nausea.
“I will be pleased to ride one of these lovely horses… One must face the rigors of travel with dignity, Sir Earwig.” Her radiance declared crisply, officially changing his title with her pronouncement.
“Well, that settles that, we depart a half hour after dawn.” Becky announced firmly, taking charge through some occult means. “Everyone take a rest, we’ll send some scouts down the trail.” She had her eyes on Team Ragamuffin as she spoke, smiling with a little hidden glee. “I’ll be riding with the scouts, so that leaves duke Julius in charge I suppose…”
Duchess Grace coughed gently and winked at the high priestess. “I’ll keep him out of trouble.”
The two women giggled and jested at his grace’s expense for a few more rounds… while Julius pretended to be offended at their slights against his dignity.
“Trouble on the road… Trouble in my home… Respect my authority, woman!” Duke Rummel roared, as he chased his wife into the baths.
#
The Ward kids straddled their odd machines; their ‘bikes’ at the garden gate and waved impatiently to the gathered company and the straggling members of the patrol ride that had yet to get ready. The remaining three were busy in the combined gaggle of guests and the base camp team.
“We’ll keep in contact, don’t fret.” The tiny blonde mage cooed to her giant husband.
“Yeah… great, Ives…” He grumbled softly, still looking displeased. “Be careful anyway… I just serviced your bike, don’t break it.” His complaints had nothing to do with her machine, anyone could see that; he was a truly awful liar.
“Yes husband, I’ll take good care of your precious equipment.” Ivy huffed back at him, taking obviously feigned offense at his attitude. “We’ll discuss equipment care and maintenance when I get back.” Her sniff of outrage rang hollowly, since it had to wriggle its way around her small, naughty smile, as she stood up balancing on her pedals so the giant could bend almost double to kiss her.
Once the mushy stuff had gone on long enough, Amy rang her sweetly alarming bike bell, calling Frank and Becky from the fond embraces of Maya and Kermal, respectively.
With just a little good natured grumbling, the rest of the team dragged themselves to their mounts and pedaled away, up the road in near silence, vanishing around a bend within a few minutes.
Benny and Maya watched the scouts roll up the mountain pass with a sour look. “I gotta start endurance training with Ivy…”
“I did notice that only Adventurer Ivy’s machine lacked the ‘motor’ that all the others’ machines held. Yours also lack these things.” Hermione murmured softly, still watching where the kids had vanished up the road with a slightly lost expression on her face.
“Yeah, only Ivy can keep up with them when they really cut loose. Not everyone is able to power the motors, it requires a special… gift. One that few outside house Ward can acquire.” Benny murmured; his voice was quiet and low, seldom heard while he was around his boisterous teammates.
“Let’s start dinner, they are going to be ravenous when they get back.”
#
Wilf led the way… as always, cranking hard and pushing himself on the ascent, forcing the others to hammer their way up the road to his punishing cadence. Only Ivy kept pace, her smile of ecstasy so wide that her helmet’s chinstrap squeezed her cherubic cheeks.
“One more mile to really warm up, then you cheaters can start your engines.” The cruel mage girl barked down the trail at her struggling kin.
“But… We’re… Almost… At the… Top…” Becky wheezed and gasped from the middle of the pack, where she was putting her whole ass into pedaling up the grade… and getting steadily diminishing returns. Frankie was struggling mightily as well, while Amy and Rio smiled and churned along happily in the afternoon sunshine.
They finally crested a rise, a few hundred yards from the granite prominence that overlooked the ongoing bug battle in the steep little forested valley. Like distant thunder, the noise of that conflict rang out from time to time, as the monsters continued their struggle.
An overgrown cart track led off just below the ridge line, skirting the peaks and winding its way across numerous switchbacks and elevation changes. The subtle line of the abandoned road was visible for a half mile along the outer rim, following the contours of the mountains in both directions.
“Oo… that looks nice, tasty gravel.” Wilf cooed, when they paused at the trailhead to survey conditions. Pulverized granite and hard packed clay formed a rough, rutted track, little better than a game trail, hugging the slope in a long, steady incline to a gap among the peaks.
“Yeah, real nice..” Rio mumbled excitedly, while the team was busy checking and adjusting their suspension systems. “We should take the south fork, Dannyl said it was an easier grade.”
Wilf immediately opened his mouth to strongly suggest the northeast route, only to be cut off before he could begin.
“I’m taking the lead, this is not a bombing run, bro. The other route takes us too near the valley those two knuckleheads tumbled out of.”
That sobered his big, little brother up. Wilf was highly risk averse in most situations. Get the boy on wheels and suddenly he had no fear and a powerful thirst for adventure. “But Rio… we’ve been going so slow!” He moaned, still looking up the steep, narrow mountain track.
“Sorry, bro. We’re taking it slow and careful… we want a spot on the expedition that’s gonna be coming back, not a seat on the sidelines cause we’re ‘reckless’.” Rio scolded him gently.
“We’ll hit the trails and do some splorin’... I promise.” Amy thumped him on his massive, armored shoulder and grinned up at him. “Come on, let’s squeeze as much safe, responsible fun out of this as we can.”
Becky and Ivy leaned in their machines in the shade of a tall yellow pine, savoring the scent of early summer in the mountains and listening to the negotiations.
“I’d like to say ‘they grew up so fast’...” Ivy muttered. “It’s always felt like they were grown folks, trapped in kids’ bodies. ’Specially Wilf… and you, kiddo.” She shoulder bumped her slim, dusky little sister and sighed softly.
“Break’s over, these monsters want us pedaling again… I’d swear they were using their motors.”
The four kids were busily double checking their machines and snugging their armor up for another leg of the long, miserable climb.
“Here, maple candy and some of Liam’s ‘Turkish’ thingies.” The slender wisp of a girl produced a small bag from her coat and tossed it to the sweating blonde mage. “Think about how good that bath is going to feel… once we drop into an epic downhill run.”
Her little sister’s smile and genuine excitement washed away a little of the older woman’s exhaustion, with some help from the sticky, sweet cubes of candy. The sugar went off like a bomb in her tired body, blasting through her and setting her legs in motion through the simple joy of feeling alive and riding through the mountains.
“Dannyl has a loose definition of ‘passable’ it appears…” Ivy muttered with a cross look on her cute, cherubic face. “Should have brought Tallum, He lives for this kind of thing.”
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Just ahead, the infrequently traveled, seldom maintained mining track cut through a ripple in the hillside. Out of the wind and sloped to collect more water than most of the dry gullies, the vegetation pushed in from the sides, growing more ‘lush’ which in this case meant thorny and unpleasant.
The road cut through a thicket of manzanita that had flourished over the last few wet seasons, becoming a bushy, pointy and very tough obstruction. The roadbed remained mostly intact, but the trees reached for each other across the trail, blocking it to anything larger than small deer.
Wilf was off his bike and striding forward eagerly, his warshovel already in hand. Rio and Amy followed after, less eagerly. It was a machete for Amy, with Rio wielding a billhook beside Wilf. Together, the three Ward kids hacked the brush back and stacked the limbs aside, after Wilf selected a number of the branches for his own purposes.
Together they cleared a single track through the brush, hewing the limbs well back and doing their best to leave no deadly, impaling traps behind to skewer the unwary.
The road uphill was a long, smooth and even descent into the thicket, which concealed a rocky water crossing on a tight bend that was banked entirely the right way for soil retention and stable road building… but completely wrong for a sweet downhill run. Those technical elements, combined with a few lazily hacked off branches and stumps could spell the end of a rider or mount tripped up by nasty surprises.
Wilf placed a few trial markers ahead and behind the obstruction, small cairns of deliberately piled stones as a warning to future travelers before they moved on.
“Long ascent” The big lad grunted, as they cracked along, a quarter mile up the grade. “We’re gonna earn that ride back.”
#
“The Ward kids and Frankie, they’re kinda… special. You should ask Amy if you want answers… They are…” Benny was seated with the three captains, enjoying tea in the garden, with a serving of interrogation on the side. The big man was blushing and fidgeting nervously under their relentless questioning, after they had waylaid him in the herb garden.
“They’re our teammates…” Maya said firmly, as she joined the party with a sour expression on her angular face. “We don’t gossip about our teammates, captains. If you want to learn the secrets held by Amy and the boys, you gotta ask them.”
“We did ask.” Hermione said with a grimace. “They sang something called ‘Rainbow Connection’ and slipped away.”
“If they sang you that one, I guess you’re ok…” Benny grumbled. “Rio’s really got the Kemit voice down…”
“Shush, ya big mook.” The tiny girl snapped fondly at her giant comrade. “Secrets are for keeping.” Turning back to the three embarrassed sea captains, she grinned wolfishly.
“We’ll let you three ride in our formation tomorrow… If you can keep up, you might just learn some things.”
“Maya, don’t be mean.” The young giant muttered. “Maybe half the day, til lunch.”
#
“If it catches our scent, it’ll bound off into the woods and stalk us until we kill it or it eats all of us. These things are canny, sneaky and almost smart, we need to take it now… and they are… delicious.” Ivy said with a smirk and a wink at the big lad, who was looking agitated and eager.
“Rio, you’re still on point, you got this?” Wilf asked his lanky brother, who nodded tersely.
“Bombing run!” Wilf called joyfully, as he drew a short, light lance from his storage gift and tossed it to Rio. His own weapon followed immediately after, appearing in position under his arm, the barbed point glinting in the afternoon sun.
The element of surprise was key, so Rio was already dropping in, with a brief prayer to the god of beasts on his lips and his lance couched.
Wilf heard the others behind him, flying down the trail just close enough that he could hear their wheels on the rutted gravel roadbed. Trees and boulders flashed by at a pretty good pace, considering Rio was on point. A brief gap in the trees gave a glimpse of what lay ahead, at the bottom of the downhill run.
At the foot of a granite slab, a wide highland meadow spread out beside the road, with the ruins of a stone building peeking up from the grasses and wildflowers. Their trail ended at the stone prominence, where the old road had slipped down to meet itself.
Wilf groaned as he watched Rio hesitate at the drop. “Send it, bro!” His shout of encouragement and warning came too late; Rio bobbled his front wheel, scrabbled at the brakes and generally made a mess of it. He launched on a weird angle, flying toward a rough slope of bracken, weeds and saplings, screaming all the way.
He managed some kind of a landing, astride his bike in a weird toad crouch, feet on his seat and clinging to the bars for dear life. When his rear wheel landed, Rio’s butt came down hard on that spinning, knobby tire, buzz sawing his buttcheeks viciously.
That was the last sight Wilf had of his brother, as he careened off into the woods; desperately steering with one hand, wobbling and gripping his ass with the other.
“Ouch…” The big lad muttered in the brief moments he had left to consider his brother’s fate.
The crashing sounds among the trees faded quickly, as Wilf dug in and followed his own advice. Rushing wind and the elation of flight seized his soul as he launched into the pale, early evening sky.
Nothing existed in the timeless moment of flight but his prey, his training and muscle memory. His lance slipped from its clip on his bars and tucked in, just like he’d practiced so many times.
A flex of Will at the last moment vanished his bike into his shadow, leaving only the armored man and his pointy lance, flying right at his very startled target. Becky’s whoop of feral joy rang out from the drop, just as nearly two hundred and sixty pounds of man, armor and weapon crashed the party.
Twelve feet long and as massive as a warhorse, the dire jackalope was not a bunny to be trifled with. Armed with short, curved horns and a second set of pronged antlers behind his ears, few predators would try their luck with a frontal attack. His sturdy hooves and sharp, venomous dewclaws were troubling, but it was the very carnivorous, long, sharp, feline teeth that presented a formidable threat on their own.
Wilf’s red armored form blasted into the surprised beast right behind its shoulder, driving his lance deep into its body. A fierce squeal of rage told him he’d missed the giant rabbit monster’s heart… unless it had a few; such mutations were not uncommon. That was a contemplation for later, at the moment he had a set of antlers slashing and bashing at him, pretty understandably.
He released the strap of his lance and dropped to the ground, covered in rabbit blood and hair, just in time to catch a glancing blow from a wildly kicking hoof as the rabbit, antelope, cougar monster went wild. He blocked an antler with his shield, conjured from his shadow in the scrum, before replying with a thrust of his short spear, as he danced in a circle around the enraged beast.
#
Becky, high priestess of Marduk, god of Knowledge and the moon dug her feet down on the pedals, dropping her heels and blasting down the trail, following Frankie and Ivy.
Her last minute burst of speed and a shift of balance brought her wheels down on the meadow with powerful jolt; even through the flexing and damping of her bike’s suspension system. Magical hardwood, spell inscribed bronze and good old fashioned spring steel groaned under the forces at play in her wild descent, while soil sprayed out in her wake as she skidded to a halt near the ongoing battle.
Amy flashed by twice on her bike in a few scant seconds, slashing with her long sabre on each pass. She harried the wounded beast, pressing it and turning it back when it tried for a leap, while Wilf did the hard work. She ditched her bike and joined her brother on foot, when Frank’s voice came over their earcuffs.
“Rio’s fine, we’re joining the fight.”
The two young Adventurers dashed out of the thicket Rio had vanished into; muddy and looking battered, but armed and moving well. The clack of a pair of crossbows firing heralded the battle’s end, as Amy put a short steel bolt behind its ear, at the same instant Frankie’s heavy quarrel took it in the throat.
“All right… Next time, you take point.” Rio mumbled in embarrassment, while Wilf hauled Rio’s machine out of the woods. Together, he and Amy went over the wreck of the mangled bike.
“Everybody crashes, brother. Everybody. You can walk away, so it’s all good.” His taciturn brother rumbled quietly. “Gonna need the forge, gotta have a new spring and shackles, these are toast.”
“Aww… Are you sure?” Rio pawed at his face in agitation and groaned.
“Toast.” The big lad rumbled. “I’m gonna go help with the butchery; Frank’s out of his depth.” He stood from the wreckage and wiped his hands on a clump of grass.
“Wait, I’ll handle the entrails…”
“Tough break bro…” Amy sighed. “I’d ride double with you, but my bike won’t hold you, never mind both of us.”
“This is gonna suck ass.” The lanky boy grumbled.
#
The wide meadow lay at the bottom of a short, wooded trail and a bare stone slope; it overlooked a narrow valley of sheer cliff walls, with a thickly forested floor. Birds and bats darted from caves as the first hint of evening shadows encroached on the sunshine.
“This’ll make a nice camp for tomorrow night… What’s for tea?” Rio demanded tiredly, when they finished packing the monster jackalope’s remains away in Wilf’s shadow.
The others all looked to the big lad expectantly, while he started pulling stuff out of his storage gift. Unlike Amy’s storage ability, Wilf’s held any object placed into his shadow in perfect stasis, so hot food came out hot, even weeks or months after he’d tucked it away; meat remained fresh, beverages were always as cold or hot as when they went in and nothing ever got smushed.
“Meatball sandwiches and coleslaw, potato salad and miso soup.” He grunted, as wicker baskets began to appear from behind his body.
Like Amy, he couldn’t pull things out of his storage gift if anyone was looking directly at the action; he had to use sleight of hand and misdirection to access his gift, even among his siblings… Only their papa could gaze into the rift between time, space and reality that their extradimensional gifts reached through.
Capacity was Wilf’s real problem; he could stow only about his body weight, or roughly two hundred and thirty pounds of gear and supplies in his gift… and he could only fit in objects that were less than a quarter his own mass.
Larger quantities of material had to slip deeper into his shadow, winding up in his metaphysical basement storage, where it would be inaccessible until retrieved from there… at home, in physical reality.
Only enchanted objects he’d crafted himself or personally participated in creating, like the team’s armor and weapons could edge around those rules. The freshly butchered hide and quarters of the late dire jackalope would be waiting for them when next they took down and re-built their home; in this very meadow, if everything went to plan.
The monster’s two intact hearts were neatly packed in Wilf’s personal storage… He’d skewered one of the three magically imbued organs straight through with his lance, spoiling it for any arcane purpose.
Otho the dog would enjoy the remnant magic in the battered, lumpy mass of gristle and muscle, while Wilf had big plans for the remaining two.
“What’s our spare bike situation?” Rio asked grimly, once their break was over and the remnants cleared away. He was looking back up the trail, when he asked; eyeing that steep ascent that was right before them, but thinking about that long, fast, thrilling descent back to base camp.
“You think I carry a whole spare bike, bro? Nope.” Wilf muttered. “Gonna be a long walk back, you’re too big to ride double with anyone… unless…” He smiled with a sweet gleam of childlike innocence in his eyes. “Wanna try the chariot?”
“God’s no!” Rio muttered crossly. “Not unless I’m riding the bike and you are in the bloody trailer!”
“Come on… It’ll be fine…” The look of childish hope on Wilf’s face had become something darker and more sinister, as his lanky brother backed away from Wilford Brimley Ward, a known thrill junkie, craftsman and tinkerer of ill repute.
“No chance…” Ro griped at his brother. “I already saw my life flash before my eyes once today!”
“Cool, so you can have another look at where you hesitated on that drop.” Amy chimed in helpfully, while Frankie was already assembling the ‘chariot’.
As team healer, Frank carried an enchanted storage ring, custom enspelled to contain his medical kit, emergency supplies and his current project.
The kids called it ‘the chariot’ because their father had created the handy device and had, of course, named it.
Drawn in bold print, limned in bronze leaf and subtle highlights, the name was emblazoned across the sides and rear of the thing: Folding Artisanal Reconfigurable Trundlebug, or F.A.R.T… Because their father was a huge goofball.
#
Dannyl, Larksong and Maya slipped back in an hour and a half before sundown, dusty, sweaty and exhausted. “We scouted up the south fork… It’s a dungeon entrance for sure.” The handsome ginger explorer sighed, as he sank into the bath.
“The signs are unmistakable; it’s probably been growing for a year or more, perhaps longer. I might have missed it when I passed through.”
“Any clues what’s inside, what the environment is like?” Duke Julius asked eagerly.
“We’re seeing cave critters, so it’s at least partially underground, no sign of undead yet, nor anything… eldritch.” He scrubbed his face with a damp flannel and sank down lower in the bath.
“Could be anything. We might need a delve team.”
“Count Liam still has a contract with the Fist, a free Adventure band of good reputation.” Rolf murmured happily. “I could use a bit of exercise as well. We can expect some interesting times before this midsummer feast is done with.”
#
“Sorry, bro…” Wilf said through a smile that said he was not even a little sorry. The ‘chariot’ was well sprung and smoothed out all the bumps and jolts as much as anyone could hope; it was intended to carry the infirm or injured out of inaccessible places. That assumed that the person pushing, or in this case, towing the device was not a lunatic.
Rio was in a reclined, seated position directly over two spoked steel wheels, in a sturdy little compartment of hardwood laminate. It had a low roof, low sides and plenty of open ‘windows’ for him to watch the scenery flash by… at terrifying speed.
Flying down the mountain feet first behind his mad brother was more frightening than…
“Gods Wilf! Slow down!” He shrieked in a very dignified and not at all shrill tone, as they cut a sharp turn that popped him up on one wheel for a brief, heart stopping moment.
When they finally stopped at the gates of home, the lanky, dark skinned young man looked ashen… and a hundred years old.
“Never again… I’ll walk back next time.” He gasped, as he tumbled out of the little cart and onto the lawn like a bag of loose human parts.
#