by Demi Harper
He'd probably be fine if only he'd take off that damned chainmail.
Squelching sounds whenever he moved suggested the padding and clothes underneath his mail were soaked, and probably had been since we'd set out the day before.
I'm glad I don't have a sense of smell. This lot must already be smelling pretty ripe.
At the vanguard, Longshank was driving the first wagon. He raised a hand to signal the halt to those behind him, then reined in Blaze the badger. The convoy came to a stuttering halt, and I heard more than a few sighs of relief. Some of the marchers dropped down onto the ground where they'd stopped, but not so many as yesterday. The others remained on their aching feet, waiting for instructions from their group leaders.
"I'm proud of you, Corey." Warmth flowed across our bond. "I know how frightened you were of the surface. But when it came to it, you did what needed to be done."
"Thanks, Ket. I'm proud of me, too."
She rolled her eyes, but it was true. I was coping way better than I'd expected. Being under the cover of darkness and then sheltered by trees probably helped some, but even still. I still felt stupidly vulnerable without the safety of thick rock walls and ceiling, and I doubted I'd ever feel anything but uncomfortable at the sight of so much open sky, but for my first time above ground—ever—I was doing pretty amazingly.
"When you're quite finished basking in your own achievements," she said dryly, "maybe take a moment to appreciate how well your denizens are doing too?"
"They're much hardier than the humans, I'll give them that."
"Yes, but there's more. Not a single one of them has lost their boots today!"
I looked more closely. The sprite was right. The marching gnomes had used twine to tie their boots more tightly around their ankles, ensuring they were not so easily forsaken to the greedy mud. Others had stuffed theirs with rags to make them fit more snugly. At the rear of the convoy, Swift and Cheer's ever-present sack remained empty, to the opportunistic pair’s obvious disappointment.
If only I could send them out to scout with the others. These two need to be kept busy. Alas, the Scout ability cost mana to use on any gnome that didn't have the scout vocation. I'd have to come up with something else to occupy my scavengers.
Longshank climbed stiffly down from the wagon, stretching his leg with a wince before taking Blaze's halter and guiding their wagon into its position in the half-circle barrier.
"He's not happy you made him ride on the cart all day," Ket said.
"I don't care. His new leg was clearly hurting him after yesterday's march. Besides, I need him rested. He has a job to do."
I had no doubt Longshank would have limped his way through the entire march today without so much as a whimper, but even his fortitude had its limits. As much as he tended to rub me up the wrong way, the hunter was much too important to the tribe for me to risk his health for the sake of his pride.
As a hunter—an advanced profession—he could command a party of up to five scouts on a single expedition for a duration of up to twenty-four hours, thanks to his Scout Leader skill. I'd sent them out that morning to gather materials from the surrounding forest, and then consigned them to the carts for the afternoon. Now they were rested and ready to go out once more.
Back when I’d been using the Scout ability on denizens without the actual scout vocation, I’d been forced to not only expend mana to do so, but also to convey instructions on what to look for in a very unreliable way. Thankfully, when it came to Longshank I could choose from a list of basic options using the Augmentary. I selected “Food (hunting)”. Shanky instantly perked up and started issuing orders to his squad.
Once they were out of sight, I reassured myself that the remaining gnomes' preparations were going smoothly, then glanced over the blueprints of the items the scouts had brought back that morning. I paused to inspect one in particular.
Misthoard
Plant (bromeliad)
Unlike other plants which are designed to absorb water, the waxy outer surface of the misthoard’s leaves repels water (’hydrophobic’), funneling it instead into the center of the plant where it will be stored for later consumption.
Though bromeliads are often found in desert environments and other hot climates, their hydrophobic functions can also be found in certain sub-species that prevent the stored water from freezing solid in winter.
"What are you going to do with those?" asked Ket curiously.
"I want to try something." I concentrated on the nearest builder—Buttress, a heavily-built gnome who was almost as wide as she was tall—and her Augmentary profile popped up beside her. Focusing on her list of builder abilities, I selected 'Assess,' then attempted to mentally send her the misthoard leaf’s blueprint.
She glanced around. Clearly seeing nothing, she returned to her task of assembling a tent.
"Psst," came Bekkit's whisper. "Try using the physical specimen rather than the blueprint."
"I can still hear you, you know," grumbled Ket. "And I was actually about to suggest the same thing."
"Of course you were."
With Ris'kin's help, I located the leaf sample, which had been repurposed by one of the children as a hat after being dumped in a cart by the scout who'd found it. Rather than attempt to prise the item away from its new owner, my avatar instead took the child's hand and led her over to where Buttress and the other builders were now rigging the makeshift shelter for those unable to fit inside the thatch tents.
This time, when I selected 'Assess,' Buttress dropped the portion of the hide she'd been holding—much to her fellow builders’ annoyance—and advanced toward the child. The little girl continued to suck her thumb sleepily while the builder examined the dark green facets of her leafy headwear.
After a minute, Buttress nodded, then turned away from the child and resumed construction of the shelter.
Blueprint discovered!
Raincatcher
Survival
Catches rain. Can also function in limited capacity in misty or humid air, depending on the leaves used.
Material prerequisite(s): Misthoard leaves x 4
Nice!
Interesting that it fell under the ‘survival’ label rather than 'construction' – perhaps because it was a mobile contraption rather than a permanent one.
I wanted to find all the other new materials and have my builders assess those too, but I was distracted by something else I'd noticed. I pulled up Buttress's profile again.
"You weren't kidding when you said the gnomes are improving, Ket," I said. "Look at these skills!"
My sprite trilled with excitement at the listed array. "She definitely didn't have these skills before the exodus, did she?"
"I can't say for sure, but I doubt it was building gnomehomes that gave her levels in Muddy Terrain."
"Three levels in Endurance... that'll be handy... Corey, this is brilliant!"
"They're all gaining passive skills as they travel," I told her, my own excitement building. "This exodus might actually be the best thing that could have happened to us."
"Assuming you complete it successfully," Bekkit said.
"Why must you always ruin everything?!"
"Don't worry," I told my sprites. "I have a good feeling about this."
The rain had finally eased, and the glint of stars winked from beyond the thick canopy of leaves and branches. The woodland had grown denser the deeper into the forest we'd traveled, and I was definitely starting to feel more at home under the trees' shelter.
Unlike the previous night, most of the gnomes did not immediately seek shelter in their tents, and were no longer huddling beneath the misery of a constant downpour. Instead they gathered around the warmth and light of spongy pink hearthshrooms and disc-like broilcups. Unlike illumishrooms, hearthshrooms emitted warmth as well as light, though only when three or more of them were grouped together. Grimes wheeled a barrow of them over to an elderly couple who were swapping stories at the entrance to their tent; the pair thank
ed the young farmer and offered him a seat alongside them, which he graciously accepted.
Broilcups were a species Swift and Cheer had brought back from a past scouting expedition. The black, tough-looking mushrooms were unlike any of their species I'd so far encountered. Far from thriving in damp conditions, broilcups seemed to despise water, and reacted to its touch by heating it to boiling temperatures in an attempt to evaporate it away—a bit like Benin used his magic aura to keep the rain off. The broilcups looked sinister and a bit gross, but they were perfect for things like heating bathwater and cooking food. The smaller ones could even be dropped directly into the water. You just had to remember to remove them before serving or bathing.
Several eager-looking gnomes were crowded around a particularly large broilcup, staring longingly into a pot of stew—rat and chanterelle today, I believe—that was bubbling happily within its bath of boiling water.
Heavy snores sounded from Benin and Coll's tent. The two humans had long since crawled into their sleeping bags—though probably as much to get a head start on Swift and Cheer as from exhaustion. The emberfox, however, was as alert as my denizens. She'd taken to following Ris'kin around, imitating my avatar's barked commands and "helping" her to carry supplies to and from the wagons.
After the little fox accidentally incinerated her third blanket, Ris'kin instead set her to the task of covering every inch of the camp and using her fiery aura to dry and harden the muddy ground. Pyra took her job very seriously; many a gnome was forced to jump out of her way as she proceeded along her route like a determined drillworm. Those not quick enough ended up nursing minor burns which I instructed my medics to attend to. Thankfully the rest of the forest was too wet for the accidental burning of leaf mulch and pine needles to be much of a danger.
Burn victims aside, Pyra had been accepted among the tribe immediately, whereas poor Binky still evoked suspicion and wariness from many of my older denizens. What Bekkit had told us about earthly vs celestial creatures checked out so far, in this particular detail at least.
Clothiers from different groups sat together on the wagons, swinging their legs and chatting happily as they knitted, keeping half an eye always on the children running to and fro. Apart from a few who'd developed annoying sniffles as a result of the inclement weather, most of the youngsters were in high spirits.
Several of them appeared to be giving Ajax a makeover. They clustered around the crouching warrior, giggling as they took it in turns to festoon him with woven grass crowns and paint his lips with berry juice. One boy’s eyes lit up when he noticed Binky nearby; he advanced toward him, comb in hand, but the spider smartly made himself scarce. Nearby, Nails watched as stonily-faced as ever, though I definitely caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Hoppit was leading the watch tonight. After directing the others to their positions, she strode to her own post, chewing on a piece of possum jerky and re-tying her hair into a sensible tail. She threw Gneil a wink and a grin as she passed the chariot, which he returned awkwardly, blushing and nearly dropping the lid of the ark on his foot. One of the acolytes caught it, and when they'd set it to one side Gneil gave them orders to bail out the rainwater that had leaked into the 'holy box' over the past couple of days—presumably with strict instructions not to disturb my gem too much.
I gazed over it all, sensing through our bond that both Ket and Bekkit shared my contentment.
How could they not? Serenaded by a peaceful chorus of laughing children, snoring sleepers, the occasional drip-drip of the still-wet leaves, and the occasional happy snuffles of the badgers as they rooted for slugs and other insects beyond the camp's boundaries. With the warm glow of the hearthshrooms reflecting off the leafy canopy overhead, I almost felt safe.
Yes, I thought again. Maybe this journey won't be so bad after all.
Then the children's laughter turned into screams.
Thirty-One
Kidnapped!
Corey
I watched in horror as two huge winged shapes swooped from the trees and into the light. Their target was obvious: a blond-haired gnome child who was singing and dancing atop one of the wagons, completely oblivious to the approaching threat. The other children, who'd gathered below to watch her, immediately screamed and scattered when they spotted them.
Ris'kin! Owls incoming!
I didn't need to give any instructions. My avatar was already alert and haring toward the child. Forcing my thoughts into a cohesive message, I focused on Gneil and prepared to cast Divine Inspiration with the instruction to signal the other gnomes to take cover.
Then I recalled the Augmentary’s new feature that let me directly impart signaling instructions to my officers. It was the work of a second to switch my focus to Hammer and select ‘Take Cover’ from the list of options attached to her Signal ability. Though Graywall was closer to the site of danger, I knew from past experience that Hammer liked to shout her signals as well as sign them. Sure enough, her gesture was accompanied by a bellow which alerted the entire camp. All around, warriors raised their shields while non-combatants flung themselves to the floor, crawling into tents and beneath carts.
Frowning in confusion, the blond girl on the cart finally opened her eyes just in time to see the first owl's talons close around her waist.
She screamed as she was yanked up into the air, kicking her legs helplessly. Her pale hair whipped from side to side with every beat of the owl’s wings, and after a few seconds her head and limbs were hanging limply. I hoped she’d just passed out from fright, and that the violent movement hadn’t damaged her neck or spine.
A few of the slingers had their weapons ready, but hesitated to loose, wary of hitting the child by mistake. They were well practiced in aiming at moving targets on the ground, but flying targets? Not so much.
Luckily for us, I knew one member of the tribe who did have experience in that area.
Binky, Spit!
The massive spider, who’d been standing protectively over a huddle of cowering younglings, raised himself onto his rear legs. His upper body followed the owl’s path of flight, his rear legs dancing elegantly to avoid the prone children as he turned on the spot.
His pedipalps and chelicerae spread wide like the tentacles of an anemone, and Binky convulsed, expelling a wad of sticky fluid at the winged kidnapper.
The projectile was a milky blur as it sped through the air. An instant before it hit, the owl screeched and adjusted direction. It wasn't enough to take it out of the missile’s trajectory—but that hadn't been the owl’s goal. Instead, as it twisted in the air, it opened its claws and flung the gnome child toward the second owl.
Binky’s web-bullet impacted the first attacker with a wet smack, and silk tendrils erupted, spreading to engulf the owl’s left wing. The massive feathered monster let out an outraged screech, making all the gnomes in the area flinch and cover their ears, then it flapped awkwardly away into the trees.
Meanwhile, the second owl had caught the girl’s limp form easily. Prize in talon, it spread its wings wider and lifted itself higher, clearly preparing to make its own escape.
Hoppit's bullet caught the owl right between its eyes. The huge bird fell from the sky like a stone—and so did the little girl. Ris'kin was already moving into place to catch her, followed by two frantic-looking gnomes carrying a blanket stretched out between them.
But the first owl was back, one wing half-tangled in spider-spit. Talons extended, it snatched the unconscious child from the air, dipping a little beneath the sudden weight.
Ris’kin sprinted beneath it. At my command, when she reached him, Binky allowed her to leap on his back, then raised himself on his rear legs again, boosting her momentum. She sailed upward. Her black-furred fingertips brushed the child’s foot.
It wasn’t enough. The owl, beating its wings frantically, was rising once more. It flapped unsteadily; one wing was still encumbered with venomous fluid, but the feathers’ thickness must have protected it from the
worst of Binky’s paralyzing goop, and with one final triumphant screech it was gone.
Badgers growled. Warriors yelled. Children wailed.
Incredibly, the humans were still asleep, apparently exhausted enough to somehow not register the chaos currently in progress outside.
"We have to save her!" Ket was flitting back and forth. Sparks trailed from her as she wrung her hands anxiously.
Amidst the chaos, Swift and Cheer appeared from wherever they'd been skulking and immediately started dragging the owl carcass over to the humans' tent. I don’t envy Coll and Benin when they wake up, I thought, remembering the days of the scavengers bringing me dead mice and rotting possums like a pair of misguided cats.
"Shanky and the scouts are the only ones you can send after her right now. But they're all out hunting!"
My sprite was more distressed than I’d ever seen her. I understood her concern, but attempted to think practically rather than emotionally.
Should we really risk more lives for just this one? She could already be dead. It's sad, but we have to be realistic about these things. She’s just one gnome...
"Regrettable,” said Bekkit heavily, “but we must focus on the greater good of the tribe. Consider her a tragedy of the exodus, learn from her demise, and move on.”
"Are you suggesting we leave her to get eaten?" Ket said. "What kind of monster even thinks about leaving a child?"
"Yeah, Bekkit, what kind of monster even thinks about leaving a child?" I turned on him quickly.
“We should wake Benin and Coll,” said Ket decisively.
“No,” I said. “Neither of them has the skills to be of use in this sort of situation. We need someone stealthy. Someone with experience in tracking.”
