Since the first blessing came free, Charitybelle didn’t have to wait until we had accumulated favor points. I got a spending notification that an elder of Forren had given me the blessing of Hot Air.

  It opened a fourth category of powers, giving me religious blessings, combat abilities, magic spells, and settlement mandates.

  Knowing I had only ten seconds of hang time, I took care not to levitate too high, but I wanted to test its speed. An audience for my experiment gathered as a few dwarves visited the idol during their midday break to become followers.

  Unlike magic spells, I didn’t need to speak words. Instead, I mentally invoked Hot Air by wishing it to happen. I rose off the ground as if riding a slow, invisible elevator. The blessing offered no lateral control, only up or down movement. My body moved about a yard per second. Even five yards in the air felt high, so I reversed my direction halfway through its duration.

  Could I use it as a poor man’s Featherfall? If timed right, Hot Air prevented me from splatting on the ground, assuming the massive deceleration wouldn’t kill me. I could test this theory by jumping from the watchtower or trees.

  Having both Hot Air and Compression Sphere unlocked a new power.

  It seemed I had unlocked a mini-teleport. Slipstream augmented my combat potential in limitless ways. Despite my hoarding power points in my bank for emergencies, I immediately spent one and cast the spell. Time stopped, and a spherical reticule appeared. I learned the extent of its range by mentally moving the reticule around in my frozen environment. The spell didn’t reach destinations beyond a 10-yard range or through the solid palisade wall. But I could slip around people or behind the altar.

  Slipstream’s targeting system gave a disembodying experience. While the interface froze the world, my perspective wasn’t from my own eyes but the targeting reticule. As I moved it, my viewpoint orbited around my body at different vantages. I could even see the back of my head ten yards away. I could see behind things, cheat at cards, and use it to gather hidden information. This targeting effect could be a spell in its own right.

  After committing to a position on the far side of the fort, I renewed time’s continuity and rocketed through the air. What a rush! Air whistled in my ears, and I stopped without being off balance. Because of lunar behavior, I knew the laws of physics differed in The Book of Dungeons, and moving this way convinced me that falls ending in Hot Air wouldn’t incur deceleration trauma. And with Slipstream, I had two mechanics to avoid falling damage.

  Charitybelle gaped in amazement. “What was that?”

  Fabulosa’s eyes opened just as wide. “Was that Hot Air? You blurred right in front of us!”

  “That’s a new nature spell called Slipstream. You need to learn Compression Sphere first.” I told them how it worked. Compression Sphere wasn’t their favorite spell, but Slipstream could be such a lifesaver that they’d probably take it.

  After waiting five minutes for the cooldown to end, I recast my new spell. Not needing a direct line of sight to my destination opened many possibilities. It wasn’t a true teleport, but it felt close enough.

  I used my robe to reset Hot Air’s daily cooldown and waited until Slipstream became available again. I Slipstreamed ten yards into the air, dropped into a freefall, and invoked Hot Air to stop myself. The instant deceleration did not hurt me, and I floated the last few inches to the ground.

  Charitybelle ran to me. “You scared me half to death. I thought you would break your legs!”

  Skateboarders had a saying—If you’re not failing, you’re not trying. As a young boy, I became quite the daredevil. I banged myself up, grinding against curbs, stairs, and railings, but my injuries never elicited concerns from my aunt. I thought of myself as a typical punk, too stupid to avoid hurting himself. Looking back, I wonder if my recklessness sought sympathy or attention.

  “Physics in Miros works differently with magic. Hot Air breaks long falls without inertia hurting me.”

  Fabulosa listened, slack-jawed with envy.

  “Of course, you won’t need to know any of this since you don’t follow the Hearth Mother.”

  “Nuts to that.” Fabulosa marched to the idol and added herself to the flock.

  Everyone except Yula became Forren’s follower by sundown, earning Hawkhurst 37 favor points daily. The huntress already followed an orc mountain deity associated with her clan. She had Featherfall, so she didn’t need Hot Air for a safety net.

  I spent the next hour playing with the spell’s parameters, zipping across the meadow every five minutes. Each trial run taught me more. I could slip through the bars of a jail, gate, or hole large enough for a fist. It stopped working in waist-deep water.

  My practice and experimentation fascinated Fabulosa enough to become my audience. I could port small things like weapons. I even Slipstreamed while holding a bucket of water without spilling it. She even took part in tests. When she grappled me or if I tried carrying her, the spell fizzled, and the five-minute cooldown timer started. Slipstream was a bicycle built for one.

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  Yula and I headed into the forest the following day when bipedal bogeys appeared across the river. The gray blips might have been the Sternways returning with friends—but the blips could have been orcs, so we ran back to camp.

  Yula’s advice surprised me. “Keell orcs wearing imperial inseegnia.”

  Shooting first set a dangerous precedent. We couldn’t finish anything we started against waterborne invaders. If we presented any challenge, they could easily turn away and return with reinforcements. I watched the radar dots as Yula and I ran, but they never turned red.

  “You seem remarkably casual about shooting your people.”

  “Redbone orc ees not my kind. Emperor ees tyrant—but not een good way.”

  Charitybelle and Fabulosa had both canoes in the water before we arrived. She would have confirmed with Chloe before setting out, so I trusted the dots represented our friendly mercenaries, the Sternways, returning from Fort Krek. Iris and Fletcher weren’t on a set schedule, but they’d been gone longer than we expected.

  Raindrops on the lake’s surface signaled an imminent downpour. As the skies darkened, the work crew rushed to put their tools away.

  I watched my companions paddle across the river to a secluded landing. Each canoe returned with four humans. The four new arrivals looked like they could handle themselves in a battle and wore armor similar to Iris and Fletcher. The passengers indicated good news about the trip to Fort Krek.

  I watched the six travelers from Hawkhurst Rock and greeted them when they neared the shore.

  As they paddled toward us, Charitybelle shouted instructions to prepare for a 3-kegger feast, another good omen. Still, I habitually braced myself for bad news about the trade route—even though all evidence pointed to the contrary.

  Rocky and Mrs. Berling had already begun cooking more meat to turn our dinner into a celebration banquet—including hydra appetizers.

  By the time the boats left the water, rainfall had begun. The inclement weather wasn’t ideal, as an outdoor venue better suited 47 people. Since our roundhouse accommodated only 24 diners, we ate in rotation. As much as I looked forward to eating together in a town hall, seeing four more arrivals made me wish I’d built another roundhouse.

  We met the newcomers inside the roundhouse while rain drenched the camp.

  The new mercenaries, Val, Sami, Vahid, and Rachel, served in Fort Krek and a town neighboring it along the river called Jarva. Their turnout testified to the Sternways’ conviction that Hawkhurst’s trade route had potential.

  When she waved me over, I joined Greenie and Charitybelle for a drink. During the day, the two busied themselves with blueprints and wanted to be left alone. But they discussed the settlement’s future at night, and these conversations usually encompassed juicy details. The pair often found themselves surrounded by onlookers eager to know how they expected the camp to grow.

  When I entered kissing range, Charitybelle broke her attention from Greenie and planted one on me—accompanied by a tight squeeze. “I’m so happy. Have you heard the news?”

  “I think I have. The Sternways hired four recruits?”

  Charitybelle nodded. “The guards are old army buddies from the East looking for a change.” She turned to Greenie.

  Hawkhurst’s green chancellor took his cue to fill me in on the details. “While crime and intrigue present employment opportunities abroad, the mercenaries feel wilderness is more attuned to their leanings.”

  Charitybelle beamed. “That’s only part of the good news. The Sternways had no trouble getting to Fort Krek. They say the only danger involves orcs, but Fort Krek fights them anyway. Iris says the commander wasn’t available, but the other captains agreed to extend their patrols to protect westbound caravans. Hawkhurst and the West won’t be the only settlements interested in a new trade route.”

  “Wow, that is good news.”

  “That’s why Iris and Fletch stayed there for so long. They think the passage is defensible, and they’re ready to commit to Hawkhurst and become citizens. Lloyd, too, will join us. That’s not even the best part—the Sternways are launching a guard guild based in Hawkhurst specializing in caravan escorts.”

  Not only had Iris and Fletcher Sternway validated a cross-continent trade route, but they also weakened the Wainwrights' chances of monopoly.

  “Won’t Glenn be disappointed? We still need transportation experts.”

  Charitybelle waved her hand. “Glenn grousing about it is a given, but a trade route is too valuable for his guild to pass up.”

  Greenie echoed her sentiments. “A guard guild is a public endorsement. And news of a Fort Krek connection forces Glenn’s hand to deliver a favorable report to the wainwrights.”

  I accepted a mug of ale from Rocky, who passed them out. “The only thing Hawkhurst needs to do is provide a ferry. And that shouldn’t be too difficult once the town hall unlocks a shipyard.”

  We toasted Hawkhurst’s future.

  The hum of the party continued, and my alcohol-addled mind mulled over the news. With the Sternways and their four Fort Krek guards, our settlement population climbed to 44. When it reached 50, Hawkhurst gained another level, which meant another mandate. I couldn’t wait to see our options for a level 2 settlement.

  Charitybelle had already worked out the bunk space issue with the mercenaries. They weren’t joining our settlement as workers, so they wouldn’t receive free food and permanent lodging. A guard guild counted as Hawkhurst’s first entrepreneurs.

  On such virgin ground, the first caravans would have to be light. But this should work for merchants who probably wanted to dip their toes in the water before risking more merchandise. Everyone needed a proof of concept, giving Hawkhurst time to ramp up its infrastructure.

  “Hey, Apache!” Fabulosa called to me over the buzz of revelers and the patter of raindrops on the roundhouse. We grew tipsy from the ale and shouted into each other’s ears. “I’m going with the Sternways to Basilborough. Do you and C-Belle need to go, too? If the route is a go, we gotta take that spider thing out.”

  “Yeah. That’s a good point, but Charitybelle won’t want to leave. There’s too much going on here at camp. But don’t worry, we’ll get her to go. I want to go to Grayton to translate the warlock’s papers.”

  The grin returned to Fabulosa’s face. “You set your heart on those notes, didn’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I can’t let it go. It’s my own research quest.”

  Fabulosa made a mocking look of confusion. “A quest? What are those?”

  I laughed at how funny we played The Book of Dungeons. The idea of fulfilling quests seemed old-fashioned, clunky, and artificial. “Yeah, I think we ventured too far off the beaten path. Maybe all the quests are in the cities. Delivering things. Following storylines.”

  “I have to hand it to you. Between your research and C-Belle’s city-building, when you guys think outside the box, you really think outside the box.”

  “If the developers planted all the quests around the big cities, the other contestants might be out-leveling us.”

  Fabulosa mimicked Yula’s accent. “And when zey find us, zey crush us like bug!”

  I held up a finger. “Ah! But first, they have to find us.”

  Fabulosa laughed. “It’s not all bad. We’ll be pretty tough customers after we get that battle college online. I forget. What rank will it train us up to?”

  “It goes up to 30, which, I guess, is good?”

  We both shrugged.

  Charitybelle joined us, hugged me, and clunked her cup against Fabulosa’s. “Hey, guys, what’s up?”

  Fabulosa pointed across the room. “It looks like Oscar and Glenn are fixin’ to git. They’re already talking to the Sternways about going back to Grayton. Hawkhurst is a mite rustic for them.”

  Charitybelle nodded. “I heard. The Sternways don’t have a place to sleep, so they’re heading out tomorrow anyway. Glenn seems eager about the trade route. I think it might be a pretty big deal to Miros. Do you realize we’re breaking a trade monopoly that Arlington has had for centuries?” She checked our faces to see if it impressed us, and I raised my eyebrows to show I was. “And Glenn says that Arlington doesn’t even have an army. They’re all navy and can’t do anything about us.”

  Fabulosa made a big show that the news thrilled her, and I could already sense her buttering up Charitybelle for the big question. “For the return trip, Patch and I thought we should go with them. We need to kill that spider-weaver-thing.”

  Charitybelle stiffened at the mention of a spider, and her smile faltered.

  Fabulosa grabbed her hand to keep her friend focused. “And we need your help clearing the route. The kicker is, the settlement won’t grow until we’re done. And who knows? You might even level up.”

  I could have let Fabulosa do the entire sales pitch, but I played my part when Charitybelle balked. “Hawkhurst will still be here when we return. It has guards now.”

  Fabulosa gave her a protective hug. “I don’t take to spiders either, but we need to clear them out. Besides, we’re going all the way to Grayton. You can help Patchy research his doggy papers.”

  Charitybelle gave a weak smile, leaned against me, and nodded in surrender.

  I tried to cheer her up. “And baby, it’ll be weeks before the workers finish the town hall, locking us out of new blueprints until then. That leaves nothing for you and Greenie to modify, right? The actual town planning happens in Grayton, negotiating with the wainwrights.”

  Charitybelle sighed. “I suppose that’s true.”