Time was, Tina figured every Abby was equally terrible, just dangerous in different ways.

  Took all of one foray into the badlands to prove her wrong though, because Bug Abby were on a whole nother level of gross when seen up close. The froggies, doggies, and kippers that used to plague New Hope were almost cute in comparison, while gobbos, orcs, and bugbears seemed chic and stylish when stood next to Bugs. Wasn’t her first time seeing them, but there wasn’t much to see while plinking away at them from atop the walls, not like she was seeing here and now. Take Swarmlings for example, who came at you in droves and thus sorta all blended together in the crowd. Here, they were more spread out, so she could finally see that they had these distinct and disjointed upper and lower bodies. Wasn’t nothing natural supposed to move like that, like they was two Abby with one riding atop the other similar to a man on a horse, only she could see their pulpy grey flesh showing through their chitin plates with every swish-swoosh step they took.

  The chitin was a pain too, hardly half as tough as the Aberrtin infused plates in proper armoured Abby, but still tough enough to stop standard Bolts from killing it in one hit outside of vital areas. Those gaps in its midsection was one such vital area to aim at, but every time Tina saw their mushy innards she wanted to gag and look away, because it didn’t look like nothing you’d expect. Wasn’t no skin to cover it, just a peek straight into its innards, with none of the smooth, continuous muscles you’d expect to see flexing and contracting about. Instead, you got a holey mess of meat suspended on a honeycomb frame, meaning there were dozens of visible gaps in their flesh that opened wide and snapped shut every time the Swarmling turned this way and that.

  Trypophobia was the word for it, an aversion or fear of clusters of holes, one that caused feelings of disgust, revulsion, and terror. The Drill Sergeants had mentioned it, and Tina thought it sounded oh so silly back in New Hope, but now she understood just how off-putting it could be.

  Course it wasn’t like them Proggies designed their Swarmings specifically to trigger such an effect. The honeycomb scaffolding of the bug muscles was just the most efficient way to get the most outta their biomass, and the trypophobia was just an added bonus. Their smooth, snake like faces though? With their 4 beady bug eyes and giant gaping mouths full of needle fangs and opaque, yellowish saliva that dripped down from their jowls? Those were most definitely engineered to daunt and petrify, and their battlecries only made things worse. They’d open up their mouths enough to triple the size of their heads, then their jaws would stay open and vibrate in place to emit a piercing, chittering trill so high pitched it felt like it was scraping against the insides of Tina’s skull, like the frantic whine of a kettle on the boil only a thousand times worse.

  The good news was that their opened mouths made for an easy target to hit, albeit one no less disgusting to look at compared to their exposed midsections. The bad news was that the Spitters looked a lot like Swarmlings, only they didn’t open their mouths the same way, and they were a whole lot sneakier to boot. Another example of intelligent design from the Proggies, making their dangerous, long-ranged Abby look so similar to their cannon fodder that ran in without a care in the world. These ones here were spine Spitters, meaning they shot barbed projectiles of hardened chitin they produced in their gullets. Only warning you got was seeing them Spitters draw their heads back like a bow being drawn taut, before darting out like a striking snake with its fleshly lips all pursed like they about to kiss or whistle.

  Could launch one of them barbed darts at about 90 meters per second, which wasn’t much compared to the 330 meters per second of the Bolt Cantrip, but it’d still make a mess of you if it hit unprotected flesh. Needed a surgeon to extract them too, else you’d risk doing more damage with the barbs pulling it out than it did going in, not to mention the high risk of infection from all that Abby spit covering the dart to start with. Already some of her Mirror Images had been hit despite all the precautions they took by hunkering down behind cover, and Tina didn’t dare use her Echo as it actually had some solid mass to it and could get taken out by barbs. Temporary Mass created by Ectoplasm, but mass all the same, and sharing senses meant that she’d feel the pain of those barbs impacting against her.

  So she held off on using it and stuck with Mirror Images instead, except most of the Spitters had figured out those were merely Illusions and no longer cared to shoot at them. Instead, they were clambering out of the dried bowl that was once a lake so they could get a better angle on her, and if it wasn’t for Howie plinking away at them from the side, Tina would’ve long since been forced to fall back. It was all so frantic and fast-paced, she felt like a whole hour had gone by in mere minutes of fighting, with each second stretching out into eternity as she locked in, unloaded her ammo, and moved on to a new target time and time again. When the last skittering Swarmling fell and the area went still, she almost sank down in relief, dropping Concentration her strained Mirror Image Spell which she managed to maintain for at least 4 times its normal duration.

  Then the big Behemoth popped up out of the ground, and let loose with a resonant scream that made Swarmlings sound like a church choir in comparison. The booming alien battle cry shook Tina’s bones so much she feared her teeth would explode and shatter like glass in her mouth, and she yelled out just to hear something besides the Bug Behemoth. Ait turned its massive, armoured head towards her, she couldn’t help but think it didn’t look nothing like the Swarmlings, with its pointed, forward facing horn and clamping-mandibles sounding out with fierce, menacing snaps as it rumbled forward in a rage, intent on dealing with her and Howie both in short order.

  The sharp retort of her 1911’s lent Tina courage as she unloaded on the charging Behemoth, the crack of the shot followed by the boom of a heavy hammer and a bark of thunder to boot. The mechanical clink-clack of the slide as it worked back and forth with every shot sounded out in speedy cadence as she unloaded 24 rounds into the Behemoth in maybe 2 seconds flat. Though every Bolt slammed home into the big bug’s head, it barely even flinched at the impacts and didn’t slow down one bit, charging forward at speeds that belied its massive, ponderous mass.

  Putting her 1911’s away, she drew her Armour-Penetrating Model 45’s instead, cursing herself for a fool for forgetting that the big Behemoth bug would have an armoured head. Proper Aberrtin armour mind you, chitin so thick with it that it could take a licking and keep on ticking despite all the cracks and potholes leaking green-black ichor across its face. The dark-steel semi-automatic handguns were a beaut to behold, and while Howie only bought one for her to start with, Tina inherited the second Model 45 when his plans to bring Errol and Sarah Jay into his crew fell through.

  They would’ve made an unholy mess of the Behemoth to be sure, but soon as they were in hand, she didn’t have an angle on the big bug no more. Her stomach flopped, her mouth went dry, and her body locked up as she froze in place, knowing exactly what was about to happen but unable to do anything besides throw out her Echo right at the edge in hopes of distracting the bellowing Behemoth as it reared up on its hind legs and popped its armoured head up over the side of the ridge. It didn’t waste no time spearing her Echo clean through the belly, and the pain drove Tina to her knees. She didn’t scream, just grit her teeth and bore with hit, because this much pain was nothing. Less than a third of what it would actually feel like, but seeing herself get done in by Abby was unsettling to be sure, even if there wasn’t no blood or guts to be found. No, the Echo just poofed out of existence once the Ecto holding it together was torn apart by the Behemoth, and her heart leaped in her chest when she realized she’d be next as it turned is horned head towards the real her.

  Except it didn’t attack. It raised its head up high into the sky, then shrieked its warbling trill as it flailed its legs and slid down the side of the basin and back out of sight. It appeared soon enough, still sliding across the rocky ground and pedipalps both as it struggled to find purchase while leaving a trail of slimy drippings in its wake. Took Tina a solid second to figure out what happened, and when she did, she turned to Howie stood next to her, because he’d come to save her bacon and wasn’t holding back no more now that she’d gone and failed his test.

  One he solved with a Grease Spell, a simple, First Order Conjuration. That’s all it took to turn the formidable and seemingly unstoppable Behemoth into a clown show as it legs slipped and skittered across the ground in a futile effort to stop sliding away. Was almost 20 meters away before it fell, which spoke volumes to its formidable balance, and only then did it stop sliding since its belly wasn’t Greased up and provided enough friction to slow its momentum. Wasn’t enough to get it standing though, and it just lay their shrieking in rage as it struggled to get its slippery feet under it, and Howie paid it no more mind as he went about his business.

  And this was his business, killing Abby that is. Plinked off a few Spitters with his Ranger Repeater, working the lever quick as a blink and emptying the tube almost fast as she could empty a 1911. The Repeater only had 6 shots to her twelve of course, but while she liked to 3-shot her targets to put them down for good, Howie did it in one. 6 shots, 6 kills, each one hitting a Spitter trying to climb out of the bowl, all without using his fancy scope either. Had the gun raised to his shoulder, but was point-firing with his head held up high, knowing exactly where each Bolt would go simply by where the barrel was pointed.

  Didn’t reload the rifle or hand it off to a waiting Mage Hand though. Instead, he flicked it aside to turn on his strap and rest neatly against his back, while using that same motion to draw his Rattlesnake on the way back. Didn’t start shooting right quick, but stretched his arm out instead, moving front and left of her before herding her away to fall back. At the same time, his left arm shot out and threw something off to the right, a greyish tube that went end over end in an arc to land in the perfect position for the resulting Fog Cloud to cover the upper third of the ramp which was the only available path up to their position. A second greyish tube followed soon after, and Tina’s eyes went wide when it fell short and erupted into a field of pale-white grasping grass.

  It was a perfect one-two punch. The dense cloud of Fog blinded Abby on their way up, only for them to charge out and get caught up in the Entangling Roots. He didn’t even bother with the Swarmlings that came out of the fog, just let them seethe and struggle as they made slow but steady progress across the Entangling grass, one that was far weaker than a manually casted Spell would be. Still bought them time, but would it be enough to get away? Tina didn’t think so, and doubly so since Howie had to keep an eye on the situation and take out any Spitters climbing onto the ramp or up the side of the ridge they were sheltered on.

  Course, she was a fool to think Howie would run, because he was a man without fear. Soon as she was far enough back, Howie advanced for a better view of the basin, maneuvering his Blastgun wielding Mage Hands to clear out the Abby at the top of the ramp while using his Rattlesnake to take out Spitters from afar. Was slow and methodical about it, and he even peered down the barrel of his handgun to use his iron sights to do it, all while his left hand moved through the familiar motions of an iconic Spell which made him a man to be feared indeed. One hand raised to the skies in supplication to the sun, only to seize its power in the palm of his hand as he brought it down and back to wield for himself. “Incendo,” he began, speaking in a calm and steady cadence while pumping his fist back, “Magna.” The third and final syllable was uttered in tandem with his motions as he lit up with the incandescent glow of Aether and threw his left out to point at his target with a cry of, “Invoko!”

  I Invoke the Great Fire, but there was no fire to be found, not just yet at least. Instead, Howie held the Spell, then reached into his grenade pouch to pull out a third greyish tube, one he actuated and tossed out in one smooth motion. A second passed in agonizing slowness as he hunkered down and looked away, followed by the booming crack of thunder and a bright flash that Tina barely shielded her eyes from in time. Blinking past the harsh glare, she looked up to see Howie standing bold as can be at the side of the ridge, in full view of everything down below as he calmly picked out the perfect location to place his Fireball for maximum effect.

  And what an effect it was, as basin lit up in an orange-red blaze of flame, heat, and smoke, so similar to what she’d seen the Rangers do on their way up to Pleasant Dunes. This was Howie in his element, a man still a week shy of turning 18, but one who made his living riding solo out here in the badlands, a place even experienced Rangers don’t like to visit with a full Strike Team supporting them.

  Tina was damn proud of her sorta brother, a man so far ahead of their fellow peers he made them all look like bumbling rookies in comparison. The Third Order Fireball was probably the least impressive of what he’d done here. Sure, it all looked easy breezy as can be, but that’s because Howie made it look easy as he set himself up for success. His aiming and positioning, the utility of the Grease Spell, Fog bombs, and Entangle Grenades, the slow and methodical manner in which he placed his shots and picked his targets while Abby was trying to get at him and tear him to pieces. Watching him was like seeing the Drill Sergeants go through an exercise to show the boots and recruits how it was done, but Howie did it just as well without so much as a moment of hesitation, much less making a single mistake.

  It showed in the calm manner with which he grabbed his Whumper which was propped up nearby, fully loaded and well within Tina’s reach when the Behemoth first popped up. Could’ve grabbed it and screwed the compressor on just like Howie was doing, though she would’ve had to look at the gun while doing it. He didn’t, just kept his head on a swivel and set his Mage Hands to shoot off a single Blast now that there were enough Swamlings at the top of the ramp. The oversized revolver sounded off to deliver a hail of kinetic, Armour Penetrating shards through the crowd of entangled Abby, shredding 7 or 8 bugs in a single Blast. The shot had so much recoil, the nose of dark, metallic Judge flew up to point skywards and brought the Mage Hand along for the ride, and Tina watched as Howie’s focus fell upon the Ectoplasmic construct to maintain the flows and keep it from unravelling apart.

  Just in time for him to finish screwing the cylindrical compressor onto his Whumper and deliver a solid bar of magical Force straight into the burned Behemoth’s bug head. Punched a neat, fist-sized hole into the charred chitin and continued on into the big beastie’s torso, but the initial hit was enough to send its smoking bulk crashing to the ground, where it lay still as can be without any further attempts to stand.

  “Fight’s not over just yet,” Howie said, hefting the Whumper in his right hand to point it at the sky while his left crossed over to draw his Model 10. The grip was pointed the wrong way, and she expected him to fumble a bit or at least have an awkward moment as he finagled the gun into place, but his fingers did a fancy bit of twirling and the compact, snub-nosed revolver was sitting pretty in his hand just like that as he started plinking away at Abby still swarming up outta their hidey holes. “Hop to it, Songbird!”

  The shout shocked Tina out of her stupor and she put her own failures out of mind as she took stock of the situation. The remaining targets were too far for pistol work, and she was running low on mags anyways, so she loaded up her Merlin 45 and grumbled about its lack of magazines. Tube loading was so slow and difficult, even though Howie made it look super easy, yet another show of how his skills were the product of hard work more than talent. Made her feel right small and sad it did, silly as a goose for not spending more time practicing reloads or asking around for tips and tricks. All she done was zero her scope and familiarize herself with how it shot, but the Merlin was a far different beast from the El-minister she trained on. Showed in how long she look lining up each shot, and she even clipped the base of her hand working the lever-action too fast, eliciting a yelp that made Howie turn in alarm for fear she’d been shot.

  More mistakes to add to the pile, and she be feeling right sheepish if she wasn’t busy making up for lost time. Racked off all her shots and set to reloading again, only to stop as the ground rumbled beneath her feet once more and the pit in her belly opened up to three times its previous size. Went well to match the two tunnels opened up by the pair of bug Behemoths crawling up out of the pit, their twin warbling cries just different enough in pitch to harmonize and compound the rattling glass effect it had on her teeth. Wasn’t no magic in it, only physics, but Howie put them down quick and easy as can be with two shots from his Whumper. Fwoomp-Fwoomp went the gun, then he raised it once more to go back to plinking away with his revolver.

  One Bug Behemoth had Tina shaking in her boots and scrambling to fight it off, but Howie took out two like it was nothing and went right back to work. Only stopped to reload with help from a spare Mage Hand while the other covered the ramp entrance with a Judge. The Fog Cloud and Entangling patch soon cleared away, but Howie didn’t refresh the effects, just finished off the stragglers still kicking around while watching those two new tunnels like a gryphikin. When a fresh wave of Abby came pouring out, he raised his voice and shouted, “Sing us a song, Siren!” Nothing happened right away, and Tina was too busy placing shots to glance up at Mama across the way, right up until Howie stretched his arm out in front of her and said, “Cease fire.”

  Tina stowed her weapon, the response ingrained into her after almost a full year of training, then stood and watched as Abby flooded the basin with Swarmlings and Spitters alike. Quick as a blink, they skittered out from their tunnels, screeching and squawking all the livelong day as they charged forth to do battle, only to come to a stop like they done stepped in something unpleasant and didn’t want to look down to see the damage. There they stood, all bunched up in the basin in a quiet, unassuming crowd, their beady bug eyes staring off into the glowing Aetheric haze that done come down around them. Their bodies went still save to sway along with the pulsing currents, a rhythm Tina could almost hear as she watched Mama’s magic at work, quelling the bestial rage of the Abby horde and leaving them trapped in a calming trance from which they could not escape.

  They tried to of course, and Tina could see them fighting to shake off the Enchantment settling around them, but Mama was too powerful, too adept with her weaves and subtle with her ways. The more they struggled, the more her magics entwined around them, like a net pulling in tight to catch a whole school of fish. This here was a Big Spell, a powerful Third Order Illusion called Hypnotic Pattern that creates a swirling, mesmerizing image that renders targets incapacitated as they stand still and watch the pattern unfurl throughout their minds. It was a cornerstone in a Disrupter’s kit, one which required Concentration and lasted only a single minute at base duration.

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  Or 57 seconds longer than Howie needed to drop a Widened Fireball on the whole crowd and burn every last Swarmling and Spitter to a crisp.

  Course, he waited a beat until there were no more bugs coming out them tunnels, because Mama was so good with the Spell she could maintain her Hypnotic Pattern and catch the stragglers too. The basic Spell only showed the Pattern for a brief moment, and only those who saw it in that moment were affected. This was like taking a Fireball, which was an instant of searing hot flames, and turning it into a whole minute long globe of burning death. That’s how good Mama was with the Spell, a Spellslinger comparable or maybe even superior to Captain Jung, and Tina’s heart swelled to see it. At the same time, her spirits dampened to wonder how long it’d be before she got the Spell for herself. It wasn’t guaranteed to come of course, because even if Tina didn’t have daddy’s blood in her too, two Innates from the same bloodline could have completely different talents and Spell sets.

  Showed in how Chrissy’s first Third Order Spell was Catnap, while Tina’s had yet to learn one a full year and a half after the fact. Wasn’t fair, because it wasn’t like she slacked off with her Spellslinging either. She pushed herself to the limit each and every night, weaving Illusions and practicing her Mirror Images as often as she could, but she couldn’t sense any Third Order Spells coming down the pipeline, and might well never get one from her bloodline either.

  Meanwhile, Howie was a bonafide Magus with no less than 3 Third Order Spells, and was working on a fourth with help from Mr. Mueller’s notes. In contrast, Tina could hardly make heads or tails of all them numbers and notations on First Order Spell Formulas. Add in the issue with her late-blooming bloodline and it made her wonder if there’d ever come a day when she could partner up with Howie to pull of a Spell combo like he just done with Mama, all ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’, and then it was all she wrote, leaving the scorched basin wholly silent and still as a graveyard at midnight.

  “Still work to be done,” Howie said, all calm and cool as he snapped the cylinder of his Rattlesnake closed and holstered it to reload the Whumper too. “Head on up to the wagon and grab the Floating Disc sleds. All six of them mind you, and make it snappy. Best to grab our corpses and get gone before a second group of Abby come to see what all the fuss is about.”

  Halfway through his explanation, he finished reloaded and set to Summoning up Blobby with a Ritual, the wobbly simple servant that Tina so loved to watch, but she didn’t stick around a moment longer than necessary. She done already made enough of a mess gawking and fumbling during the fight, so she double-timed it up to do just as Howie said. Grabbed a stack of 3 sleds in one arm, a burden so thick she couldn’t even grab the bottom and had to make do with squeezing as hard as she could to pin them against her sides. Knowing she didn’t have the upper body strength to last long, she grabbed the second stack in the same manner and made her way down to the basin. Arms aching and legs shaking, she huffed and puffed and fought to keep upright as she took step after wavering step, only to run out of strength about a third of the way down and placing the sleds down to rest.

  With a big thump no less, which caught Howie’s attention from where he was using Mould Earth to carve out a set stairs leading down into the basin. He gave her a look, one that was amused but straining not to show it as he watched her pant, wheeze, and wait for the feeling to come back into her limp arms. “A-plus for effort,” he said, with a little shake of his head. “F for execution. Try turning one of them sleds on, you silly goose.”

  Tina’s cheeks burned to hear it, and she cursed herself for a fool again. The sleds were for hauling and could carry up to 225 kilograms each, meaning one could carry all 5 other sleds and her own weight to boot. Stupid is what that was, a rookie mistake that couldn’t be handwaved away, so she did as she was told and arrived at Howie’s side just as he finished with his stairs. “Grab a sled and start on the bugs by the ramp up to our fighting position,” he said. “Work fast, but don’t push yourself to exhaustion. We still got a long ride ahead before we put up for the night.”

  Gave her the safe and easy work, hauling Swarmlings and Spitters while he descended down into the basin and risked his hide to collect the bulk of the bugs and behemoths to boot. How on earth he expected to haul away them giant carcasses was beyond Tina’s comprehension, but she was more concerned with his safety than anything else. Glancing up to make sure Mama was watching, Tina set about her own work with a vengeance, eager to finish as quick as she could so she could pitch in and help Howie. By the time she finished her portion, she descended to find her answer, as he was all but done stacking the behemoths onto the sleds, but only the choice bits and pieces of them. Mostly their horned heads, though he also carved off most of their chitinous shells too, leaving behind the bulk of its spongey, grey, hole-filled flesh and the Aberrtin reinforced frame that they had in place of bones, because it was all too heavy to haul away.

  Was a huge waste, but it made sense considering each of those behemoths had to weigh a good few tonnes at the very least. The smaller bugs were way easier, as they couldn’t be more than 10, 15 kilos apiece, and Tina experienced a pang of shame as she watched Howie fix his hunting knife to his Ranger Repeater and use it to stab each corpse before hauling it away. A step Tina had skipped over, because she never thought to do it, since bugs weren’t as clever or cunning as gobbo greenies. Still, better safe than sorry like the old adage said, so she sheepishly fixed her Butterfly sword to the end of her Merlin 45 and got to stabbing corpses alongside him.

  Despite packing the sleds right up to their weight limit, they still had to leave a good pile of Abby behind, mostly drones and Swarmlings since Howie went out of his way to collect the Spitters who were a higher value targets present in every sense of the phrase. Soon as they were done, they led the Floating Discs back up to empty the 3 sleds filled with Spitters and Swarmlings into the storage compartment under the wagon. Without pausing to even wash the Abby gunk off his duster, Howie strode on up to the side of the ridge to look down on the basin, holding his left arm with palm facing forward while he stared down and furrowed his brow. That’s all anyone else would see, but Tina marvelled as he seized control of the Aetheric flows, ones so faint she could barely even see them. That is until Howie moved to gather them all up in his hand, containing and redirecting them into a condensed beam of energy which he sent out into the world the same way he used his 10-foot pole to poke at things from afar.

  This was his Detect Abby Spell at work, an advance method of control that he made look easy, except again, was anything but. She’d tried it herself, and despite being able to see and sense the flows better than most, she couldn’t gather them up like he could. They just melted away every time she tried, no different from reaching into the lake to grab the reflection of the moon. Which only went to show how Howie hadn’t rushed on ahead to Third Order Spells. He had the foundation too, all them hours of practice with his bread-and-butter Spells that made him such an effective Diviner and Scout.

  “No movement below, so we got time to grab the rest,” he declared, before adding, “Ain’t worth much, but gotta make up for all that spent brass.” Made Tina feel small as a chitterrat it did, but she didn’t say nothing as she followed him back down, her arms sore and back aching from all the heavy labour. Still, she was determined to match his pace all the same, except it was an impossible task, as she soon found herself falling well behind his frenetic pace. For every corpse she hauled, he got 3 or 4, grabbing and tossing them onto the sleds with one hand apiece like they was cabbages to bring to market. When the basin was fully cleared, he still had the energy to jog on up ahead while Tina trudged on back to wagon, watching as he met up with Blobby to pick up all the brass and empty magazines they’d shed during the fight.

  Stuff she might well have forgotten about, because she was so tired and drained from it all. Poor Winnie didn’t much like the smell of Tina either, even after she washed away all the Abby Ichor with Water Sphere, so she spent a good minute calming the filly while Howie checked on Chrissy with the same sweet energy. Had her a bowl of chips and a cold fizzy drink, and was sitting pretty in the driver’s seat with her hood up and shades on, which put a big smile on Howie’s face as he made conversation in the soft, sweet tones he reserved for Chrissy and cute animals. Washed himself off while doing so, and spent plenty of time making sure she hadn’t been spooked by all the shooting. In contrast, he barely gave Tina a second glance when he mounted up on Sunshine, ignoring how the filly shied away from his touch and stepping up into the saddle as she danced about before controlling her with little more than poise, presence, and the faintest bit of pressure around her ribs.

  “Don’t pout,” Howie said, and for a second, Tina thought he was talking to her until she saw him smiling at Cowie, who was all in a huff as his hooves scraped against the ground while he strained at the heavy wagon and the six Force Disc sleds trailing behind it all laden with Abby corpses. “You a big strapping young bull, plenty strong enough to pull that weight. C’mon now. Show me some of that bull’s strength you got there.”

  Took Tina a moment to realize Howie was talking about the Spell, which these days was called Enhance Aspect. Time was, Bull’s Strength was one of 6 similar Transmutation Spells, including Cat’s Grace, Bear’s Endurance, and 3 others that served to bolster physical and mental attributes, but these days, it’d all been rendered down into one singular Spell that could do it all. Saved big on real estate when it came to Spell preparation, though Tina had to wonder how Innates who awakened to the original, unmodified Spells felt seeing modern magic overshadow their inborn abilities.

  Like Cowie, who could only cast the Bull’s Strength variation of the Spell, which was fitting considering the original Spell of the same name required a tuft of bull’s fur, a piece of bull hide, or a horn or something similar to act as a focus. Was always a treat to watch Cowie work his magic though, because he did it so differently from they way people did. Everyone Tina had ever seen, whether they be Innate like Mama, Orthodox like Uncle Teddy, Faith-based like Uncle Rigsby, or Ritual like Elodie, they all did magic the same way. They reached deep inside to connect with the Immaterium before draw Aether and Spell effects out into the real world. Cowie though? Cowie huffed, puffed, and mooed in protest, then drew in a big, deep breath to pull Aether from the outside in, gathering power from his surroundings and turning it into his own.

  It was a curious bit of trivia that Tina couldn’t make heads or tails of, but it was always a treat to behold as Cowie set the near invisible Aetheric currents of the world to streaming all around him. To her eyes, it was as if the multi-colored hues all gathered together for Cowie to inhale and transform his admitted rotund bull body into a taut, muscled specimen of bovine superiority. Course, she preferred his regular, doughy self to this hard and lumpy hulk of a bull, as he wasn’t cute at all like this. Made him plenty strong though, strong enough to pull the heavily laden wagon without much effort at all, while still blowing a raspberry as he ambled on by just to show he wasn’t happy.

  “You alright there Songbird?” There was a rare note of concern in Howie’s tone as he sidled on over beside her, and only then did Tina realize she’d been sat still as a rock while watching Cowie trundle off. Without waiting for an answer, Howie’s Mage Hands pressed something cold into hers, then floated by to grab her cloak which was still draped over Winnie’s hindquarters.

  “I’m fine,” Tina said, heeling the filly to head off after Cowie and leaving the Mage Hands behind. “It’s still warm enough to go without, so no need to worry about little old me.” She still had to prove to him that she had what it took to make it out here, because he wasn’t one to make empty threats. He might well turn them around and head home to New Hope, but so far, Cowie was headed south, not west, so there was still a chance to convince Howie otherwise.

  “That fog cloud coming out your mouth every time you speak says different.” Trotting on alongside her, Howie gave her a wry look as his Mage Hands cinched her cloak around her shoulders. They shouldn’t have been able to do that, because they weren’t supposed to move so fast, except she remembered this was his upcasted version of the Cantrip that was better in every way. A fancy bit of magic that, and yet another way in which he was standing heads and shoulders above the pack, but call him talented and he’d frown something fierce. Like he was now, in full lecture mode as he continued, “You feel warm because you been working hard and your blood all hot, but it’s still frosty out. Drink your cider and cool off, but even if you don’t, the cloak’s Imbuement doesn’t just keep you warm. It also keeps you from getting too hot, so you could wear that in full summer heat and be no worse off for it.”

  Which Tina forgot of course, even though she knew good and well Howie wore his duster year-round. As for the cider, she belatedly noticed that’s what his Mage Hands passed over to her, a chilled bottle of her favourite brand which was made by Clayton and Creasy. Popping the cork, she took a swig as they rode side by side, with Howie telling her all about the importance of sugar and salts after a big workout. “Ain’t a concern when you safe at home, but out here, you gotta keep your energy up, so chow down on some jerky even if you ain’t hungry. Ought to get yourself a tin of candies too, as its more convenient to carry around than a Freeze-box full of fizz.”

  While he talked and rode, he kept all four of his hands busy packing her empty mags. Which she ought to be doing, but hadn’t thought of just yet. She went through 14 of 24 clips in that one encounter, and once she ran dry she’d have to rely on the Merlin and nothing else. Wasn’t cheap ammo either, as all her guns used 45-15 rounds, with 50% more Grainage than standard and large brass cartridges for the bigger Cores required to sustain such high rates of fire. She ought to check them for cracks too, look them over with a magnifying glass and an Appraisal Cantrip to boot, because sometimes the damage was so fine it couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.

  Ranger protocol was to switch them out after 2000 rounds, but how was Tina supposed to keep track of all that?

  Soon as she finished her cider and jerky, she joined Howie in packing mags while listening to him wholeheartedly. The lecture didn’t last long, because soon as they was done packing, he told her to stay with the wagon while he went riding back to check on their trail, and maybe even cover it up, though she had no idea how that worked. When he came back, he pushed Sunshine a little further to range on ahead of the wagon, scouting out a campsite he no doubt had picked out well in advance, one of many options he’d most certainly have. Turned out to be the top of a small hill, with good sightlines in all directions, but cover enough to conceal themselves from a cursory sweep of the horizon.

  “Once we’re ready to bunk down for the night, we’ll have Chrissy hit us with a Catnap, and then I’ll take first watch,” Howie said, soon as they settled in to eat leftovers warmed over a hotplate, which wasn’t half as satisfying as a piping hot meal cooked fresh over a campfire, but there wasn’t no fire to be had. Not until they reached the mesa at least, and even then, Tina wasn’t sure if they’d have a fire since there weren’t no trees to chop for wood out here. That was beside the point through, because Howie wasn’t one to change things up unless absolutely necessary, so she hit him with a quizzical glance until he explained, “We done kicked over a serpents’ nest Tina. Chances are they won’t be happy and will come looking for whodunnit, so I won’t be gettin’ no sleep if I don’t put my worries to rest first. That’s the real danger out here. Not any individual band of Abby, but the fact that they all more or less united, so if they come at us wholesale, we could easily find ourselves surrounded and brought down through sheer weight of numbers.”

  Tina shuddered to hear it as she glanced over at the piles of Abby still waiting to be cooked, as they couldn’t fit it all into his giant pressure cooker at once. That’s probably another reason he wanted first watch, to stay up and cook so Cowie wouldn’t have to haul so much tomorrow. The sweet bull was in his baby form all cuddled up in Chrissy’s lap, acting all put off by a long day’s work even though he probably done this ride a thousand times before.

  “I should’ve done better,” Tina said, thinking back on the fight. “Could’ve done better.” The floodgates opened as she listed off all her mistakes, starting with how she wasted the Merlin 45’s ammo to kick things off and didn’t stop to reload it, and ending with how she froze up when faced with the Behemoth. Howie didn’t say word one throughout it all, just ate and listened while watching her close. Was unnerving, how he could look so calm and collected, yet cold and indifferent at the same time, a far cry from the warm, sweet, and supportive sorta brother she remembered from years past.

  She’d brung this on herself though, by not being up to snuff, because she done let success get to her head and thought being top boot meant she was good enough. Far from it though, and her lacking results showed just how hard Howie worked to become the premier gunfighter, Spellslinger, Abby killer, and bounty hunter of their generation.

  When Tina was done listing off all her flaws, she could hardly bear to look at Howie as he sat next to her and ate. Mama and Chrissy were quiet as could be too, because Tina hadn’t been none too quiet about listing her faults, but they kept mum as Howie considered his words carefully, which meant it wasn’t gonna be good. He was a straight shooter who spoke his mind and rarely thought about what he was gonna say, so if he was doing it now, it meant he wanted to pull his punches because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  He was being the older brother, talking to his little sister instead of the prospective partner and sidekick she wanted to be, which was why she didn’t take him seriously when he started off with, “You being too harsh on yourself Tina. You done good out there.” She gave him a look that was half pout and all grimace, but he just chuckled to see it. “I mean it. Better than good even. You put me in your place with your gear and I guarantee I would’ve been overrun in under a minute. That was some hotshot shootin’ you done, with fast hands, steady shots, and a keen eye, albeit a little lacking in situational awareness.” Meeting her eyes with as much sincerity he could muster, Howie said, “In the army, you’d be a superstar recruit, with tier two outfits fightin’ to snatch you up once you put in your years.”

  She heard the ‘but’ tacked onto the end there. “Ain’t Ranger quality though, am I?” She asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it all the same.

  “Course not,” Howie replied, chuckling as he did. “Neither am I though, so it’s only to be expected. What? You thought a year of training would be enough to see you Ranger ready? They’re a Tier One division girlie, meaning best of the best, and even the freshest Rangers needed 10 years of army experience to make the cut before they lowered standards for the Frontier. Army superstars don’t even qualify as Ranger grunts, so no need to be so down just because you ain’t there yet.”

  Punctuating the statement with a gentle jab of his fist, Howie continued, “You gotta remember, Rangers ain’t the best there is because of how well they shoot or sling Spells. No, they’re the best because they’re trained to operate under any conditions using whatever gear available. That means making the most out of what you got, but also taking full advantage of the environment and situation. I told you before we started the fight, that you get to call the shots, so there wasn’t no real rush. You picked a great spot and set up on the ridge, but how come you didn’t do more prep? Make a few more shootin’ positions along the edge with Mould Earth, throw some tripwires or traps down along expected avenues of approach, or even ask me to bring all the mollies I got down to your position? You ain’t got Fireball, but with enough molotovs, you won’t need it.” Winking, he added, “How you think I done hunted out here before I learned it?”

  He went on to list a couple more things, like how she needed to make better use of her gear, like the Entangle Grenades, Flashbangs, and Fog bombs. Could have scouted the tunnels out with the Melding potion, going into the stone and dirt to see what slept beneath, set up an Alarm Ward to guard against a surprise attack from behind, fake trails with Prestidigitation to fool them bugs that didn’t see so good in the light, Illusions on other ridges to draw aggression away, and more, Howie was full of tips and tricks she could’ve used to fend off the horde all by her lonesome with less ammo spent to boot.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to know all this right off the bat,” Howie concluded, standing up to stretch and signal an end to the conversation. “Me, I spent years watchin’ my daddy to pick all of this up, and I still learned plenty while out on my own. That’s almost ten years experience total, but my daddy only showed me the ropes. You got proper training, so you done already caught up, with just a little left to go before you there. I just wanted to see how you handled yourself under pressure, and you did good enough. Better than good,” he admitted, which was high praise coming from him, but that’s all she got as he sauntered off to check on his pressure cooker. In high spirits, she followed after with a big smile on her face, watching him work and waiting for him to notice, but he played the fool and refused to acknowledge her presence any more until he was finished skimming the fresh cooked pot of stinking Abby for Spell Cores and throwing more corpses into the pot and starting the pressure cooker anew.

  “Fine,” Howie said, feigning exasperation as she grinned like a marty and opened her arms up for a hug. “One hug,” he grumbled, wrapping her in his arms and patting her back all too hard. “Soldiers don’t hug though, so don’t get used to it.”

  Hearing him repeat what Sergeant Dixon said sent a pang of regret through her, because Howie would’ve been a great Ranger. Wasn’t gonna happen though, for more reasons than one, and while he wasn’t completely without blame, Tina was behind him 100%.

  So was Chrissy, who saw them hugging and ran over to join them, with Mama hot on her heels and unwilling to lose out. Howie grumbled and pretended to hate it, but he couldn’t hide his smile no more. Wasn’t as big and cheery as it used to be, and had notes of melancholy underneath, but it was a genuine smile all the same. Brought a tear to her eyes to see it, because the last year had been so hard on him. He lost his hand, watched Marcus die, then fell head over heels in love with Josie and lost her too. There was also Noora, who Howie also cared deeply for, but was too stubborn to try and hold onto her for some strange reason, but Tina didn’t want to go poking his wounds.

  As if all that was bad enough, he’d also fallen out with Uncle Teddy and got Exiled from town, two things he played off like he didn’t care much about. He was hurting though, and not even Tina knew how badly, because he wasn’t willing to admit it even to himself. Add in how the good folks at Mueller’s Quay turned out to be cultists using him for their own ends, and it was safe to say that 2007 had been a terrible year for Howie in almost every which way. All water under the bridge though, because not only did he come out on top bigger and badder than ever, 2008 was just around the corner, and for the first time in a decade, they’d be spending Christmas, his birthday, and New Years together, all four of them as one big happy family.

  Yeah, they’d lost a lot of good people over the years, so it was all the more important to cherish those they had left. Tina only hoped the next year would be kinder to Howie, because strong as he was, she wasn’t sure how much more pain and heartache he could take.