Around Timbryhall, the Winewater widened enough to accommodate bigger barges. They were often used by merchants, and served as the preferred method of travel between Timbryhall and Stormfort, the innermost Frontier settlement and its only real line of defense against dark tomorrows.

It would have been nice to catch a barge upstream, but they weren’t running courtesy of the Midsummer Festival. It would have provided a smoother journey, and protected them from woodland beasts.

Then again, the water held dangers of its own. Most notably the infamous Necken, who would lure boatmen into the water with his beautiful music and drown them. In some ways, it was better to stay clear of the Winewater.

And so they continued on foot.

It was a hassle getting used to the True Bond, and it kept him distracted for most of the day. There was a constant whisper in his ear, Bee’s indistinct thoughts brushing up against him. Though he couldn’t usually catch all of what went on in her head, only truncated snippets, he picked up enough to know that she was usually thinking about something stupid.

Even more infuriating was her ability to view his mind. When he found himself absent-mindedly admiring her backside, she suddenly turned with a look of mock surprise at his scandalous thoughts, then winked before spinning around again.

I guess I’ve snuck my last peek. Damn.

Still, he was happy that they had gone through with it.

Because of the build efficiency, of course.

And because feeling her presence wherever he was, like her hand on his shoulder, was profoundly soothing. Even if she was out of eyeshot, he would have been able to point in her exact direction.

He figured he would be the one to take the two extra points they needed in True Bond for the full effect. It technically didn’t matter which one of them did it, but Bee needed to min-max her upgrade points more than he did if she was going to be their main front-liner someday. For her, one passive could make the difference between winning a fight or dying in a ditch. For Will, it just meant slightly shittier potions, or slightly less overall utility.

It made the most sense that way.

He had to make sure she stuck to that plan.

The wooded, gently rolling landscape around them was serene and quiet, the silence only broken by birdsong and the soft creaking of trees swaying in the wind. There weren’t even any corpses littering their path. The calmness of the forest belied the dangers that lurked within it, and brought on an entirely unwanted sense of calmness.

He didn’t need to admire the scenery. He needed to be on his guard.

At least everyone had a newfound respect for the interior after the close call with the peeking troll. With a good deal of luck, they wouldn’t run into anything like that again.

But he wasn’t counting on it.

They broke march to camp around dusk on the eighth day, finding an old wooden wind shelter just off the road between two large boulders that had evidently been used by travelers before. Oatmeal had just reached Level 4 before they called it quits. Caught up to Kiddo, bless his soul.

Will and Mongrel went off for a piss, following their buddy rule, while Nix fussed over dinner. The Builder had mostly recovered from his nasty hangover, but was still in a less-than-stellar mood. Knowing him, it was unlikely to improve much before the end of the trip.

They picked a tree each and did their business with their backs turned to each other. Will was finished and shaking off his little fella when a strange light in the leafy canopy caught his attention. A pale, ghostly shine that peeked through the foliage. Moving, drifting downward.

“Hey,” Will said, hurriedly lacing up his pants. “Hurry up, we’ve got company. Monster, probably.”

Mongrel started jumping to get everything back in place. “Fuck, shit, yeah, okay. One second, one second.”

As the light descended below the treetops, Will watched its full form come into view. A splendidly bright horse with a silver mane. It walked on nothing, each hoof letting out a soft musical chime whenever it found purchase in thin air.

The horse’s face was flat and smooth, more like a woman’s than that of an animal. It drifted right towards him, only meters away, and its icy blue eyes were fixed solely on him.

Not a monster.

A majestrix.

“False alarm,” Will said once Mongrel came up by his side, the boys assembled in tight formation around him. “We’re not in any danger.”

The majestrix touched down at a graceful trot, spinning a full revolution before coming to a stop, and regarded the two lifers in silence. The intelligence behind those eyes was beyond that of any ordinary beast.

It was a rare occurrence, seeing one. Especially this close. Their kind was said to be exceedingly reclusive, even more so after the Fall.

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That majestrix blood he had gotten from Crooked Dick had served him well. That was only a small vial, too.

He’d need more Class 2 reagents if he was going to make an elixir.

And majestrixes were a gold mine for them.

“What do we do?” Mongrel asked, unsure what to tell his fidgety chimps.

“Just hold them back,” Will said absently. He didn’t take his eyes off the majestrix. “Let me try something.”

“Okay, I guess? What are you up to?”

“You’ll see. Now be quiet.”

He wasn’t sure how to go about it, but he tried his best to think loudly, focusing on a single string of words while also training his mind on Bee.

Bee, can you hear this? Are you there?

Silence.

Bee?

He could only hear the usual background noise from her. But then, suddenly:

<>

Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I—

<>

It’s very cool. Now pay attention. I need you to—

<>

Will blinked rapidly, taking a few moments to process a mental abstraction of the word ‘boobs’ being beamed straight into his brain.

You’re going to give me a fucking hernia.

<>

Standing right in front of me. Now get over here. Bring your bow, and be quiet about it.

<>

No. But do it anyway.

Luckily, she didn’t kick up any more of a fuss, and simply sent him a vaguely affirmative mental nudge.

First part dealt with.

The argent steed stepped in place for a good while, sizing them up, then took several slow strides towards Will.

“Back up a bit,” he said, motioning to Mongrel. “Recall your boys, too.”

Mongrel did as he was told and put some distance between the two of them, familiars safely stowed away in his friend hole.

<>

Will glanced back—as subtly as he could—towards the spot where he sensed Bee. He spied her stalking between the trees in the distance, greatbow brandished and moving in a light crouch.

Something that’s more valuable dead than alive. Flank it at a distance you’re comfortable shooting from, then wait for my signal.

<>

Boobs.

<>

The majestrix wandered all the way up to him, then slowly lowered its head—keeping strict eye contact—in something like a bow. Its silvery, silky smooth mane fell over its humanoid face.

Will reciprocated the gesture by reaching out to touch it. The creature allowed him to pet its forehead, then eventually stroke the side of its long neck.

“You really are a majestic one,” he murmured.

The horse lifted its head so that they were at eye level again.

“You smell like fate,” it said in a light, sparkling voice.

Will was somewhat taken aback by it speaking like a human, but quickly gathered his wits.

“What do you want with me?” he asked.

“Only to see your face. And to give you counsel.”

“What counsel would that be?”

“Turn back.”

Bee was in place off to his right, and he felt her mental thumbs up.

Hold for now.

“Why should I turn back?” Will asked.

The majestrix regarded him a long while, its face perfectly tranquil. “Because my heart weeps for you.”

Cryptic nonsense. I see.

Take the shot, Bee.

The forest held its breath.

Then came the bassy twang of a greatbow’s string.

The oversized arrow ripped through the creature’s hind quarters, poking out the other side and pinning its back legs together. It fell on its side with an eerily human cry, and Will felt a shiver go up his spine.

It thrashed in agony, scrabbling with its forelimbs in a useless attempt to stand. Its wailing quickly ceased, however, and it gave up its struggle. It looked up at Will, gone all limp, and its clear eyes held betrayal and sorrow. And maybe… something like pity. Or maybe he was just imagining it.

“Jaysus, Will,” Mongrel breathed as he stepped up, looking down at the poor beast. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“I need its parts,” Will said numbly.

Bee emerged from her hiding spot and jogged up to them, already working on unstringing her bow. “What is that thing, anyway?”

“Majestrix—a type of boonkin. Boonkin are beings created by the goddess specifically to aid humanity. They’ve gotten a lot rarer after she died—we’re lucky to have found one.”

“It looks like it’s suffering.”

Will nodded. “I’ll put it out of its misery.”

“I don’t know if I wanna watch this,” Mongrel said with a grimace.

“It is a tad gruesome, even for us,” Bee agreed.

Will waved them both aside. “It’s all right, you can leave. I have work to do.”

They were happy to obey.

Once he was alone, Will knelt before the majestrix, conjuring a ghostly cauldron with Construct and placing it below the creature’s neck.

“Turn back,” it wept.

Will shook his head. “Can’t do that.” He drew his belt knife. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

The majestrix closed its eyes. A lone tear rolled down its cheek.

He opened its throat and began draining its blue blood into the cauldron.

He made sure to collect the tear into its own vial. It was quite possibly the most powerful reagent he could extract from the creature.

Just an animal, he told himself as the majestrix’s divine glow began to fade.

Just an animal.