The guitar was Tina’s favourite instrument, but there was something to be said about the American classics.

  She was talking about the banjo, fiddle, and harmonica of course, instruments Chrissy immediately broke out to play with once dinner was done. She took the banjo for herself naturally, which provided the signature rolling rhythm of Appalachian bluegrass songs she loved so much. Mama was all too happy to take whatever was left over, so she got the harmonica after Tina took up the fiddle. Though missing Daddy on the guitar to really call themselves an Appalachian bluegrass band, they had instruments enough to follow Chrissy’s cue and break into a cheery melody with an upbeat rhythm.

  Really went to show how the silly girl was feeling downright giddy on this first night of their ‘camping trip’, all too eager to see the sights and sleep underneath the stars. Was rare for her to be so bright and animated, so much so Mama had to conjure up a Mage Hand just to take Chrissy’s sunglasses off to keep them from hiding the gorgeous sparkle of her pale, violet eyes as the three of them made music around the campfire to lift their hearts and soothe their souls. Especially Cowie’s, who was all baby sized and prancing about because he so loved to dance, and Chrissy picked up the pace just to keep him dancing along.

  Dunno how cheery and upbeat she’d be feeling after two weeks and change of roughing it in the badlands, but Tina figured it best to let her sister enjoy it while she could.

  The music also did double duty to drown out anything Uncle Rigsby and Howie might be talking about, because that there was a tinderbox fixing to go up in a blaze. Not that Tina was worried for their safety, but Howie had been burning a lot of bridges of late, and this wasn’t one he ought to touch. Though he had a gruff, battle-scarred look about him with his wild beard, missing eye, and marred skin from where the left side of his face was burned by an exploding bug, Uncle Rigsby was chipper, colourful sort with a heart of gold and altruistic outlook. Much like Uncle Ming, Preacher James Rigsby was always happy to lend a hand wherever needed so long as he was around, but he rarely stayed in one spot because he was always out hunting Abby. Where he differed was in his skillset, because while Uncle Ming went on more delves than almost anyone else short of Drex Durden, the Preacher of the Flames was hardly the man you wanted watching your six while down in them cramped Abby tunnels.

  Not because of friendly fire. No, Uncle Rigsby was a top tier Evoker who could drop a Fireball right at your feet and you wouldn’t feel so much as a lick of heat. Problem is, it didn’t matter if the Fire Spell didn’t Ignite, using them down under dark always came with the risk of lighting off a pocket of methane and blow you and your whole team to kingdom come. The other problem was that fire, both mundane and magical, still needed oxygen to burn, while people needed it to breathe. Meanwhile, tunnels under dark weren’t exactly known for having proper air flow or ventilation, so you could see the conflict there, and while Uncle Rigsby had been on more than his fair share of delves, his wasn’t the first name folks thought of when they learned they had a Proggie lurking nearby under dark.

  Fact was, even though Uncle Rigsby was known for his knack with fire, he was a fair hand with Frost, Acid, and Lightning too. Didn’t excel with it, but he still stood out from the crowd, which was why he was publicly known as the number two Evoker this side of the Divide, coming in a close second to Captain Jung. More importantly though, Uncle Rigsby was a Knight Captain of the Templars, who didn’t look kindly on Cultists considering their views on Abby, and Howie had just come off that whole kerfuffle up in Mueller’s Quay. Which was now Ming’s Quay, and a big point of contention in the Catholic Church no doubt, because despite all their high-minded talk of turning the other cheek and whatnot, there were few organizations as bloodthirsty as the Catholics.

  Latin or Roman mind you, and while the latter had a longer and bloodier history, the former were working hard to make up for lost time. Not for nothing, because South America had a whole lot of issues with cultists, who backed cartels and various paramilitary organizations throughout the region, to say nothing of the non-UNASUR nations that were supposedly run by the cultists themselves. Add in an abundance of Private Military Contractors making a living in the region doing whatever they were paid to do by the U.F.A, the high prevalence of Innate guerrilla fighters resisting against whatever it was they cared to resist, and Abby having a lot of free reign due to interference from Cultists, and it meant the Latin Catholic Church had a whole lot of followers who didn’t care much for Rangers or Innates.

  Wasn’t all that uncommon a stance either, an aversion to Innates, like how Kacey had called Tina ‘Aberrant filth’ on their way up to Pleasant Dunes. She didn’t hold it against the other girl, because Kacey had just been scared by the Fear Spell and deathly afraid at the time, and Tina was the first Innate she’d really interacted with. All that combined with the horror stories she’d heard about the Qins Aberrant Death Squads in the Second World War made her lash out in anger, but Kacey had more than made up for the gaffe and might well be one of Tina’s closest friends now.

  Which was why it sucked how Kacey might be stationed in the Nipponese territories down south, instead of sticking around New Hope as Tina’s Vanguard partner. What a pair they’d make, working side by side to track and kill Abby in the badlands like Tina dreamed of doing with Howie, but now she might well get stuck with boring Alfred or worse, holier than thou Errol.

  Either way, Kacey didn’t have any real hate in her, not for Innates at least, which was more than Tina could say for most. Truth be told, she had it easy looking how she did, as she could pass for normal with a hat on. Not like Chrissy, what with her silver hair and violet eyes, gorgeous features which made her look oh so enchanting yet still compelled some folks to make the sign of the cross or whatnot around her. Other Innates had it even harder, like Astrid and her brother Harald who avoided town entirely because folks would get all up in arms about them looking like Devils. Tina still remembered when Uncle Rigsby had to step up to stop a mob from lynching their mama, sweet and kindly Miss Alice who’d never so much as hurt a fly. The woman was a nurse for crying out loud, one who supplied Uncle Art with mundane and magical medicines to use in his hospital, but that didn’t stop that mob from wanting to burn her at the stake.

  To this day, Tina had no idea what set those people off, because Miss Alice had been to town multiple times before. Either way, a crowd came together and started hurling insults at her one evening, blaming her for all sorts of things, like one man’s wife and child dying in childbirth and another man’s wounds taking infection. Made no sense since she hadn’t even been around when it happened, but logic did nothing to calm the crowd as they called Miss Alice all sorts of ugly names and told her to be gone from their sight, because Innates were tainted and inherently evil due to their association with Spell Cores and Inborn magic.

  Which was news to Tina, but didn’t no one argue it then. Not even Uncle Rigsby who put himself between the mob and Miss Alice, quoting scripture about how ‘the son shall not bear the sins of the father’, and how actions, deeds, and character matter more than bloodline, nationality, or heritage. All fine and dandy it was, as it kept the mob from acting long enough for backup to arrive, but that was the last time Miss Alice ever came to new Hope, and Tina could hardly blame her for it. Didn’t no one call out them bigoted fools for what they were doing, just saying that their anger was misplaced because those Innates in particular had done no wrong.

  Which wasn’t really fair now was it? Fit perfectly well with the Roman Catholic Church’s public stance on Innates though, where Innates were sinners same as everyone else, no better or worse for it. Was a bit of a downer truth be told, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that even though there were plenty of good Catholics, and good Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Celts, Kemetics, and what have you, it felt like they didn’t do half as much good as the bad ones like them folks who wanted to burn Miss Alice at the stake. Felt like them bad folks get a pass just because they religious too, and Tina and other Innates just had to bear with it.

  Was backwards really. Them hateful types called Miss Alice a monster, but they was the real monsters for wanting to kill her in such horrific fashion for no reason besides the way she looked. All them folks still lived in town too, while most of the Innates living in New Hope at the time left soon after, because while them intolerant types made them afraid, those supposed allies didn’t do nothing to make them feel safe. Just stood to one side and watched it all unfold, maybe shaking their heads too and saying ‘that ain’t right’.

  Was similar to Uncle Ming getting disavowed after his death and how it shook the confidence of any and all non-Americans in New Hope, but at least Quartermaster Lacey pushed through some legislation to get hard working folks their American citizenship. Wasn’t nothing done to keep Miss Alice safe, so Tina could hardly blame her for not coming back to town again, and never bringing Astrid or Harald out either. As for Howie, he was going through a similar situation now, only he’d gone about it the other way. Instead of a mob going after one person, he went after the Mob, and now he’d been exiled for ‘allegedly’ killing criminals and murderers. Wasn’t like Tina agreed with it, but it was still more than anyone ever done to protect Innates, which made her feel all sorts of sour since it felt like killers and criminals were more valued than Innates in the public eye.

  Course, things weren’t as cut and dry as that. Howie wasn’t one for half-measures, so he took things too far and then some during his one-man war against the Mafia, and getting an assist from Cultists didn’t help his case. If there was one group everyone collectively hated more than Innates, it was Cultists, and the unverified but wholly accurate rumours of a Deviant on the Frontier only made things worse. Tina only hoped Uncle Rigsby wouldn’t lean too hard on Howie for it. He’d already pretty much cut ties with Uncle Teddy, and despite the both of them hurting something fierce for it, neither one knew how to swallow their pride and take the first step towards reconciliation. If Howie and Uncle Rigsby fell out over this too, then his shrinking support base would shrink even further, and Howie needed more love and goodwill, not less.

  Problem was, they were two peas in a pod really, men with big smiles, explosive tempers, and a stubborn streak so long it stretched out past the horizon and then some. Wasn’t no need to worry about their safety, as the most they’d do was butt heads and say hurtful things, and Tina figured the music would mask whatever blow out they had so they could pretend it never happened the next time they met. That’s how men seemed to do things, until they didn’t like Howie and Errol for whatever reason. Didn’t make no sense, and wasn’t no one who could explain it, so she chalked it up as one of those things she’d never understand, like why showing even the slightest bit of interest in any boy meant people assumed she had a crush on them.

  Thankfully, cooler tempers prevailed and there wasn’t no big blowout to be heard, but Howie still came trudging back alone with a sour look across his face. Then again, he’d been looking sour more often than not of late, not that she saw all that much of him at all. Even during dinner he’d been awfully mellow, lacking any of his customary cheery jokes or folksy charms, and just settled in next to the campfire to enjoy the music instead of clapping along and playing the part of dutiful fan like he normally would. Whatever he talked about with Uncle Rigsby was no doubt running circles around in his head, which was never a good sign, so she waited for a natural break in the music to stop and ask, “Got any requests?”

  Which was a mistake, because even though it brought Howie out of his head, it also reminded him there was plenty still to be done. “Nah, but let’s put a pin in the music for now.” Glancing at Chrissy, whose shoulders immediately slumped, Howie added, “Or at least Tina and Aunty Ray. You can keep playing Chrissy, but we just gotta make sure we got everything we need before we set out tomorrow morning.” Didn’t cheer her up none, so Howie broke out his ultimate move and waved Cowie over to cheer Chrissy up. The sweet calf knew just how to get Chrissy out of her funk, pressing his head right up against hers and nuzzling in close, so they left the two of them to snuggle by the fire while Howie went over their kits.

  For Tina, she had her 4 pistols all locked and loaded, as well as 16 clips split between them all scattered about her pouches and bandoliers. Howie gave her 8 more to stow away, as well as plenty of loose 45-15 ammo to carry too, but not in her pack or saddlebags. No, he wanted it on her persons at all times just in case they had to fend off a horde of Abby at the drop of a hat, which to be fair wasn’t all that terrible of an idea considering it’d just be the four of them on this trip.

  Then he wanted to look over her new Merlin 45-15 lever action rifle, and Tina immediately knew she done messed up, because she had to go back to the campfire to grab it. Handing it over with a sheepish look, she shrank back when he hefted the weapon and frowned. “It ain’t loaded,” he said, though he still checked the chamber and ammo tube with practised familiarity despite this being the first time he’d ever held the weapon. Wasn’t all that different from the Ranger Carbine, only slightly longer, heavier, and thicker to boot, but it was still as sight to see him go over the unfamiliar weapon like he’d been using it for years. “What’s up with this optic?” he asked, looking through the thin tubular scope running along a good third of the rifle and drawing back like he’d seen something offensive. “Terrible eye relief and field of view. What’s it give you, four ex?”

  “Three and a half,” Tina replied, only to shrug when Howie lifted his head and gave her an incredulous look. “It’s standard issue for the Merlin 45, and the built-in mount don’t work with much else.”

  Looking the scope and mount over, Howie shook his head and sighed. “I got a spare I can jerry rig on there for you, but not quickly, and probably not tonight. I’ll get working on a more permanent solution after we get home.” Handing her the weapon again, he said, “Load it and keep it on you at all times.” Then he stood there and waited so he could watch her do it, like he was worried she’d forget or something. Wasn’t worth arguing, so she held her tongue, grabbed a handful of loose 45-15 ammo, and started feeding them into the tube one by one. Wasn’t as easy it sounded, because the loading gate was real narrow and tight, meaning you needed to put a good bit of muscle into getting the bullet all the way in.

  “Nah,” Howie said, after seeing her load 3 bullets into the tube all too slowly for his liking. Taking the gun from her, he held it with his left, then reached out with his prosthetic to grab a bullet from her hand. The wooden finger and thumb pinched together, grabbing nothing but air, then a half second later, opened to give it a second try. This time, it touched a bullet, but slid off the smooth casing to close on nothing. Took him three more tries before he finally got it, at which point he brought his hand to the loading gate, then ran a couple Scripts or something trying to get his wrist to turn the right way. “Okay,” he said, fuming from frustration but determined to use the prosthetic anyways, even though he had two perfectly working magical solutions he could use instead. “Trick to loading these guns is simple. You stick the first bullet in half way, leaving the back end sticking out. Then you grab a second bullet.”

  Took him good few seconds to do that, which broke up his flow, but once he was ready, he continued, “Using your second bullet, you push the first bullet in and quickly slide in the second while the gate is still open.” Howie did just that, quickly and smoothly inserting both bullets and handing the rifle back to Tina. “Best is to stop halfway with your second bullet too, get it wedged in like the first, and only slam it home on the last bullet in the tube, but then you gotta count while you load. Easy peasy.”

  And it was, leaving Tina feeling awful silly since she’d seen others do it too, she just never cottoned on to why. Was a lot easier than using her fingers to push each individual bullet in through the gate, and when she was done loading, she nodded along as while Howie went over Mama’s gear. Which was in perfect order mind you, as she still remembered all her training despite not having taken part in a fight in almost 18 years. Even had proper length slings for her 3-Line and Whumper, including custom made sleeves for the stock where she could keep extra ammo. 2 clips for the 3-Line and 6 shells for the Whumper, all tucked in nice and snug where she could grab it in a pinch, and Howie, being the brown-noser he was, asked Mama if she could make one for him.

  And Mama, being sweet as sugar and a go-getter same as Howie, revealed she’d already made an extra sleeve for his Whumper and just needed measurements for the rest of his rifles. Straps too, which let Tina get a good look at the gear he was running with. Aside from the usual suspects of his Rattlesnake and Model 10, he carried Marcus’ twin Judges in place of his sawn off double-barreled Forzares, and had a Whumper and Nanfoodle to round out his ranged options, the latter of which glowed with more power than Tina had seen on any gun short of the Blackstaff Assault Rifle machine guns which were strictly for military use only.

  Course, Howie’s Nagas actually came in at a close third, two big hand cannons that looked almost as long as he was wide when carried in a snug chest bandolier that went from his left shoulder to right hip. Silly that, because the whole reason he wasn’t using his Wildshaped Hand in public was to keep folks from realizing he had a working right hand, only he all but announced it wearing those big guns like that. No sense putting them in for a right-handed draw if he could only shoot with his left, to say nothing of all the Blastgun ammo he had slotted into the bandolier for his left hand to access, showing he shot the Whumper with his right hand too.

  Then again, now that he had the prosthetic, Tina figured people would assume he used that to shoot with, even though he was a long ways from working all the kinks out.

  Seeing their guns and ammo pouches were all in order, Howie moved on to utility items, all of which he provided. “Find a spot on your belt for this,” he said, handing them each a neat little pouch that opened up to reveal rows of grey-stone cylinders sitting pretty inside, all shimmering with pretty Aetheric glows that made Tina just want to stare at them all day. There were coloured crystals right on top of each cylinder, making them easy to distinguish even by firelight, and Howie explained, “Greens are Entangle grenades and yellow for Fog. Both last a minute, no more, no less. Clear ones are Flashbangs, and red is something new Gunnar cooked up. Erupts in red Faerie Fire to mark an area and everything caught inside for a full minute. Keeps them illuminated and prevents them from going invisible even if they move out of the area of effect.”

  “They’re so much skinner than before,” Tina said, pulling out the thin Flashbang that was so different from the fatter orbs they’d used in Pleasant Dunes. Those were the size of a cueball, while these ones were about half as thick, though slightly longer to make up for it. The other unfamiliar grenades were built in similar fashion, and Tina figured she could keep some on her shoulder harness once she stitched on a proper sleeve to hold it.

  “Yeah, Astrid’s work that,” Howie said. “I brung up how chunky the flashbangs were and how fragile glass tubes didn’t inspire confidence for carrying around any of the more dangerous Potions, so she fixed it and also reworked the flashbang shells for all her thrown potions. Even had a pressurized Acid version for sale that’d send it spraying out up to 5 feet in all directions, and sold the patent to the Rangers for a pretty penny.”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Fancy,” Tina exclaimed, stroking the pretty grenades and basking in their glow a moment longer before closing the pouch up. Didn’t have a good place to hang it, so she held onto it while Howie handed out another pouch, this time a hard-shelled potion case containing all manner of lifesaving drinks. “Again, it’s colour coded,” he said, though not with crystals, meaning you’d need some light to see the painted stoppers. “Red for Staunching, White for Gaseous Form, Brown for Barkskin, and Grey for Melding. Don’t need to explain the first, but don’t be sparing with the Barkskin. If we get into a fight, quaff one the second you can do so safely, because the bugs out in the badlands don’t all gotta get up close and personal to lay on the hurt.”

  As for the other two, the Gaseous Form potions were for emergencies only, because they’d have to abandon the wagon to use them and get out of dodge. Cowie too, alongside all the horses, which broke Tina’s heart to even think about, but Howie didn’t even pause to humour her. “As for Melding, that’s there in case you fall into a pit, which happens more often than you might think. Lotta Abby tunnels and burrows dotted throughout the badlands, and the lack of roots and vegetation holding all the soil together means you could come across a sinkhole that swallows you up without warning and collapses in on itself after the fact. If that happens, then you either get buried alive or sent on a one-way trip under dark, so drink your Potion of Melding and get topside quick as you can.”

  “Howie,” Mama began, looking over all her potions with a fetching frown. “How much did all this cost?”

  “Not so much I can’t afford it,” Howie replied, before turning on his charms to add, “And even if it was ten times more expensive, it’d still be well worth the price to keep y’all safe.” Handing Mama a second potions case to stop her from wrapping him in a hug, he added, “That’s for Chrissy, though I dunno if we wanna give it to her, since she liable to drink ‘em on a lark.”

  Tina had been tempted too, so she was glad Howie didn’t say nothing to warn her against it. He did give her a smile though, like he knew what she was thinking, but that’s all he did before moving on to the wagon. Went through the long and arduous process of showing them how it worked, as if they didn’t already know, but he’d made some new additions in the meantime. Like the sunshade, which he had to close up at night in case it snowed, or the shower stall that folded up out of the back and lacked an actual shower. Showed them how to work the Radio for check ins, the Aetheric Kettle for boiling water, the hotplate for cooking food without a fire, and a bunch of other gadgets and gizmos he’d packed into the wagon these last few months, with plenty of ideas for more to come.

  Was almost an hour later before he was done, and he might well have gone on longer if Chrissy wasn’t sick and tired of playing music solo for Cowie. Marching over in a huff, the sweet girl squared off in front of Howie and declared, “Campfire songs.”

  To which Howie was at a loss to reply, until Mama said, “You did say this’d be a fun night of camping, and I told her that meant singin’ songs around the campfire and eatin’ sweet treats, like fire-roasted bapples and smores. Don’t got no chocolate or marshmallows, but Miss Dawson makes an alabaster nut spread that’s sweet and fluffy enough to do the trick, and I brought some molasses, honey, and jam to see what pairs best.”

  Took a lot more cajoling and more than a bit of pleading to convince Howie to take a break, but he was done for the moment Chrissy stepped up. She always knew just how to get him to do what she wanted, but she rarely abused her power over him. Tonight though, she refused to let him have his way a get back to his checklist of things to triple check before they left, and instead made him sing along while eating smores which were just hardtack slathered in so much sweet spread it was actually soft and palatable. The fact that they were fresh baked in Mama’s oven helped too, and Howie was singing praises of it all night long, in between renditions of Journey, Toto, Bon Jovi, and all the greatest hits of the 80s that Daddy so loved to sing.

  That’s why they were Chrissy’s favourite songs no doubt; because they were Daddy’s too, and she liked hearing them sung to remind her of him.

  They sang and ate long into the night, until Chrissy could barely keep her head upright, at which point Tina got all jealous again when her sister made Howie carry her off to the wagon. “Okay Princess,” he said, chuckling as he lifted her up in his arms and swaggered away, carrying her weight so easily without any of the groans or grumbles he made when Tina made him piggyback her so many months ago. Part of it was because he’d been pretending, but truth was, Danny wasn’t the only one to pack on a fair bit of muscle. Though Howie had lost all the weight he’d put on, there was a lean, wiry strength to him as he ambled off with Chrissy in his arms, even carrying on a conversation without sounding strained or short of breath. “You have fun camping Chrissy?” he asked, and she must’ve nodded, because all Tina heard was Howie say, “I’m glad to hear it. We’ll go camping again sometime soon, maybe in the spring sometime, but for now, this is a one and done okay? Tomorrow, we ain’t camping no more. We’ll be heading out into the badlands, where things can get dangerous, so you gotta be good and follow instructions okay?”

  “Okay Howie,” Chrissy replied, shifting in his arms to get comfy. “No more camping tomorrow. Be good and follow instructions.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Sitting Chrissy on the back of the wagon, Howie knelt down to help her with her boots, all sweet and patient as can be, even brushing them off and checking for wear and tear before setting them on the running board out back. “No, no,” Howie said, as Chrissy stripped off her socks, and Tina laughed to see it. “You gonna want to keep those on. In fact, you’ll probably want to put on a second pair. Gets cold out here, and the wagon ain’t insulated all the well.

  Chrissy gave him a blank look, then glanced at Mama to make sure Howie wasn’t playing the fool. He wasn’t of course, and Tina burst into giggles when Chrissy tossed her socks aside all the same and said, “No socks. Itchy.”

  Course Howie didn’t get snippy like he would with Tina. He just smiled, gathered up Chrissy’s socks and balled them up for her. “Well, how bout we tuck it into your bedroll then, so they’re nice and warm tomorrow morning instead of icy cold?” Which of course made Tina frown, because she remembered the lecture he gave her about using bedrolls out in the desert. Was soft and impractical, because she had to be ready to shoot at a moment’s notice out there, so on and so forth. Now he was helping Chrissy unroll hers and lay it out flat atop the new soft leather floor mat he bought just for her most likely, and even had pillows stashed away in the walls for them to unfurl and use at night.

  Now granted, Tina was training to be a Ranger, while the most Chrissy could do was pick up and pay for groceries by herself, and even then she oftentimes got too distracted to finish the job. Still, the disparity in treatment wasn’t fair at all, like he was saving all his tender care and loving patience for Chrissy, while Tina had to make do with whatever was left over. Even Mama ranked higher than her, and it showed when he asked, “Aunty Ray, which shift you want, first or last?”

  “I’ll take second watch tonight and every night until we home,” Mama said, putting Howie in his place with little more than a look. “Don’t argue with me now. You and Tina gonna be doin’ most the heavy lifting, but that don’t mean I can’t contribute. Second watch is the hardest, since your sleep gets interrupted, but I can always catch some z’s while we travel, while you two can’t say the same.”

  Howie considered arguing his case, spent several seconds coming up with a statement even, only to give up when Mama’s expression didn’t waver one bit. “Alright Aunty Ray,” he said with a smile, knuckling his head in a mock salute. “Much appreciated, but let me know if it gets too much.” Turning to Tina he asked, “First or last watch?”

  “I’ll take first,” Tina said, because she was all hopped up on sugar and in no mood to sleep, not on this first night of their big trip, and she wanted some practice loading her Merlin 45 now that she knew the trick.

  “Sounds good. Good night then,” Howie said, only for them both to head towards the front of the wagon in lockstep.

  “Where you going?” They both asked the question at the same time, and Howie smiled while Tina laughed, all too happy to be in sync with her sorta brother again. He gestured at her to answer first, so Tina said, “To park myself up top the wagon. Better sightlines.”

  “No cover to speak of either,” Howie replied. “From the elements and ne’er do wellers both mind you. You also don’t want to sit still, as you’ll only feel colder, and you’ll disturb your mama and sister every time you shift perched up there like a bird.” He had a few more things to say about it, and Tina nodded along and listened, half because he’d just repeat himself if she didn’t, and half because she knew it was useful advice gleaned from years of experience. That there was the biggest difference between Howie and the recruits, his vast wealth of experience from riding with his daddy and then solo for the last three or four years.

  When he finally ran out of steam, they’d been standing by the front of the wagon for some time now, but he still had yet to say why he was up there. When she brought it up again, he gestured at the driver’s box which now had two padded leather bucket seats installed just for Mama and Chrissy to sit on. “That’s my bunk,” he said, giving her a wink like he could read her mind and heard her comment about the bedroll. Say what you will about Howie, but he practised what he preached for the most part, never one to succumb to creature comforts out on the road. Still seemed crazy to sleep outside in the cold, even if his duster was Imbued with Endure Elements to ward off the cold and he had a blanket big enough to make a tent out of to huddle under.

  “Are you crazy?” Mama asked, her voice sounding out from inside the wagon seconds before she popped the front hatch open to give Howie her best glare. “I thought you was just changing into something clean and hopefully fresh pressed. I wasn’t gonna say nothing, but you telling me you got all these fancy new gadgets and don’t own a simple iron to get the wrinkles out your shirts? Raised you for seventeen years and change, but barely five months on your own and you already turning feral. Now you sayin’ you want to sleep out under the stars while it’s below freezin’ outside?” Pointing at Howie before he could interrupt, Mama said, “Not on my watch mister. You gonna change your clothes, maybe rinse out your hair, and take a file to your nails too, if only to get the grease and dirt out from under them. Then you gonna march your behind up into this wagon and lay your head down to rest.”

  Howie opened his mouth to argue, but Mama just tilted her head and glared at him from an angle, and his jaw shut so quick you could hear his teeth click. Even glanced at Tina for an assist, but she just smiled and motioned for him to hurry along, because she knew exactly why Mama was so insistent. The cold was one thing, but Chrissy had been asking for a sleepover with Howie for months now, going all the way back to when they caught him in bed with Elodie. Chrissy was nothing if not persistent, and truth be told, Tina was looking forward to it too, because it’d been far too long since the three of them snuggled up together. Forget all that nonsense about men and women having to keep their distance, like they was animals and the mere smell of the opposite gender would send them into heat. They was family, and wasn’t nothing wrong with a sister snuggling up with her brother, like how Sarah Jay loved to hug her sweet baby brother while he was all sat up on her lap.

  Howie was much too big to sit on Tina’s lap, but it’d work the other way around assuming he’d ever allow it. Wouldn’t even let Chrissy sit on his lap, though he didn’t seem to mind it with Josie or Noora…

  Her idle thoughts meant she was still studying Howie when he stripped off his duster and shirt in one go. Presumably to minimize the amount of time he spent standing around shirtless in the cold, but it was still long enough for Tina to get a good look at his bare back, and she almost sobbed at what she saw. There were three big, ugly scars stretched out across his back, a trio of puckered knots of dark, sunken tissue with a jagged latticework of white lines emanating out from each one. Gunshot wounds, but not normal ones, as it looked like his skin had been solidified and shattered apart before healing back up. In a way, he had, because that there was a scar pattern made by the Barkskin Spell. Hardened his flesh enough to not only absorb the impact of those three non-Penetrating Bolts, but also spread the damage out across his upper back instead of going clean through his skin and muscle to impact his heart and lungs on the other side.

  Had it been a man with a better shot or a better gun, Howie would’ve died then and there. That’s the story these scars told her, but stupid Howie never even told her he’d been shot. Said he got hurt sure, but once Uncle Art checked him out and gave him a clean bill of health, Howie left for the quay as quick as he could without spending more than a day at home. Realizing his mistake upon hearing her gasp, he threw on a fresh shirt and turned to meet her eyes with a hangdog expression, but she was too busy scanning the rest of him for scars. Wasn’t any new ones on his chest or belly, and thank the Lord for that, so she finally met his gaze with her tear-filled eyes. He didn’t say nothing, just stood there looking sad and resigned, because it was all part of the price he’d paid to kill the scumbags who killed Josie.

  Tina didn’t say nothing either, just reached out and patted his shoulder to let him know she wouldn’t tell Mama. He nodded in thanks, then looked down so he could button his shirt back up. Without any prompting, Tina grabbed his duster and threw it over his shoulders, then hugged him hard as she could from behind because it’s all she could do.

  When his shirt was all buttoned up, he patted her hands, shuffled over to the other side to change his pants, then headed on into the wagon to sleep. As for Tina, she shook the thoughts out of her head and set out to patrol the camp. Her first watch went by without incident, and while she was having trouble telling the time with the trees blocking out the moons, she found out exactly when 4 hours was up when the Darkvision mode on her Government issue Bolt proof glasses ran out of charge and left her blind as a bat in the dark. Luckily, she’d practiced swapping out the spent tank for a fresh one, since it wasn’t exactly ideal to break out the funnel and pouch of Crystal Aether in the middle of a gunfight or while moving around under dark. Pocketing the spent tank and reminding herself to refill it in the morning, she went to wake Mama only to be greeted by the most darling sight of all three of them snuggled up together in the wagon, with Howie laid out flat in the middle with only a blanket and Mama and Chrissy both curled up against him from inside their bedrolls. Side sleepers the both of them, and they was hugging Howie like a big old teddy bear, and Tina couldn’t help but snap off a bunch of Photos as quick as she could.

  Which wasn’t all that quick, 1 every five seconds, all in greyscale because that’s what she was seeing, but she could always add in the colour herself before putting the Photo onto a crystal and bringing it to the copy store for printouts.

  “Lettin’ all the warm air out,” Howie whispered, scaring Tina something fierce when she realized he was awake. Mama was too it seemed, because she gave Howie little nuzzle before stretching herself awake for her turn at watch. Only had to throw on her new cloak and boots before heading out with her rifle and Blastgun in hand, while Tina quickly put her guns away before claiming the warm bedroll Mama just vacated for herself. Even stole Howie’s arm to hug and shoulder to rest on while she was at it, but aside from heaving a small sigh, he didn’t say nothing about it, just settled in and fell asleep quick as a blink.

  Tina did too, and barely stirred in her sleep when Howie slipped out for his turn at watch. Mama was much warmer and comfier to hug, but somehow, Tina still preferred cozying up beside Howie because he seemed to melt into her, rather than butt up against her like Mama did. All the same, morning came too quickly as Howie knocked on the wagon to wake them up, with a pot of hot water already boiling while he cooked sausage and leftover muskari steak over the fire. Even had a bunch of potates cooking in the coals, meaning he must’ve put them in shortly after his turn at watch. He was in full lecture mode too, talking about how the days ahead were gonna be and how much ground they had to cover each day.

  “Cowie and the horses can do 50 klicks as the crow flies easy,” he explained, as if Tina and Mama had never been out riding before, but they both knew it was best to let him say his piece, then point out why he was wrong. “Problem is, ours will be a winding path through the badlands, and you’ll see why by end of day. So even though the mesa’s only 300 klicks from the town gates, we’ll have to cover more than 50 klicks a day to get there by the twenty-sixth. Usually, I give myself two extra days in case I gotta go around any obstacles, but since we got three extra days to work with, I figure we could take it easy and make sure everyone gets a full 8 hours of sleep every night, even with 3 shifts.”

  To ensure they got their Spellslinging capacity back up to full, though he didn’t say as much. Instead, Mama said, “No need. Should push on for the full day until it’s too dark to keep going. If either of you ever wake up with less than three-quarters of a tank, we can take an extra ten minutes so Chrissy can hit one or both of you with a Catnap, and include herself in it too.” Which was like 2 hours of sleep packed into 10 minutes, though repeated usage over the course of a day would have drastically diminishing effects. “Better if we push on to the mesa and spend a few extra days there,” Mama continued, after planting a kiss on Chrissy’s temple in silent praise for being a full-blown Magus, while Tina still had yet to learn even a single Third Order Spell. “Then we can pay our respects proper, clean up a week’s worth of grime, and be fresh as a daisy before heading home in the New Year.”

  Plus, Mama wanted to celebrate Howie’s birthday with a cake for once, even if he was more concerned with mourning his mama. Must be so tough, knowing your mama gave her life so you could live, and even though Howie only mentioned it once, Tina knew it weighed heavily on him. He didn’t say nothing though, just nodded, accepted Mama’s advice, and moved onto Spell preparation, or rather criticizing Tina’s picks of available Spells.

  “You don’t need Aegis,” he said with a shake of his head. “Since you can’t switch out your Innate Spell Structures, you gotta be extra choosy about the few Spells you do prepare.” Which weren’t many, because she had a whole lot of Innate Spell Structures. Even though that meant she could also prepare more Spells than Howie in total, Tina could only choose 2 at the moment, and the other one she had available was Longstrider. A standard Spell is almost any traveller’s kit, because it could be cast on your horse to make them cover more ground without expending extra stamina and lasted a full hour at base. Two with Extend Duration Metamagic, and those Metamagic Rods came standard in your kit.

  “What should I prep instead of Aegis then?” Tina asked, because Howie had yet to say.

  Sucking his teeth, he finished his mouthful of breakfast, washed it down with a swig of coffee, and said, “Mage Armour. Less protection, but it’s constant. Ideally, you’d prep something Higher Order like Force Barrier or even Warrior’s Ward once you make your way up to Third Order. Yeah, I know those are typically Support Spells and you don’t want to learn them proper, but they work great for Vanguards too, and you know how the Rangers love redundancy in their strike teams.”

  “Oh that reminds me,” Tina said, before he could get going on how she should pick Abjuration or Transmutation as her third School to focus on because they offered the most protection and versatility to a Vanguard. “I got these gloves see, and they can store a Second Order Spell which I can then cast without Concentration, so I wanted to know your thoughts on the best Spells to store after I Attune to them. 2 extra Mirror Images doesn’t seem all that useful since the Spell only lasts a minute at base. Same goes for Blur, but I never use it because Mirror Image is better, so that might be an option. Invisibility lasts 10 minutes and seems like the better choice, except I ain’t no Scout so I don’t go Invisible all that often, and if I’m casting it on the Scout, they’ll want it to last longer than 10 minutes.”

  Since Howie still wasn’t saying anything and seemed content to eat his breakfast, Tina continued, “As far as Enchantment Spells with Concentration go, all I really got is Madness, but I don’t much like using it.” Especially after the Mindspire used the same Spell to drive all of New Hope into a frenzy. Tina could only hit one target with the Spell, and turning the biggest, meanest Abby in the crowd against its own friends usually worked great since the biggest, meanest Abby also tended to be the leaders. “It’s not like anyone said anything,” Tina continued, seeing Howie’s lack of reaction and Mama’s sad pout of commiseration, “But you saw how Errol looked at me when he heard I could use the Spell, and he wasn’t even all that bad about it.” Bad enough to turn Howie against him, especially since Errol never apologized. Sarah Jay apologized on his behalf, but that wasn’t the same, because at least Kacey owned up to her mistake.

  “Darlin’,” Mama said, shifting over to put her arm around Tina and pull her into a hug. “Never let what other people think of you lessen your own self worth. That there is a lesson that took me most my years to learn, and I know telling you won’t be the same, but it’s still true. Just because they scared of what you could do don’t mean you gotta walk around on eggshells to make them feel safe. You just be you, and use every tool at your disposal against Abby and outlaws, because you ain’t doin’ you or your team no favours by holding back.”

  Advice Howie probably took too well, though these days it felt like he wanted folks to be afraid of him. “Your mama’s right,” he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve only to freeze up and go patting his pockets for a handkerchief Tina suspected he didn’t actually have. “Thing is though, you ought to read the manual on how them gloves work, because Spell Storage Matrices got a lot of restrictions on how they can be used, mostly with regards to targeting. Some of the Spells you listed wouldn’t work out great. Blur and Invisibility both work fine, but you can only cast it on yourself, because you’re the one actuating the effect on the matrix, which are set to target the actuator.” Giving her a wry smile that was both teasing and supportive, he added, “Same problem with Madness, so don’t go storing that Spell either. Wouldn’t want you pistol whippin' your team in the middle of a fight, though if you get partnered with Errol, you could do it anyways and use the Spell as an excuse.”

  “Howie!” Mama’s scandalized tone made him dip his head in contrition, but Tina grinned to hear it all the same.

  “A tasteless joke,” Howie said. “Apologies.” Winking at Tina, he continued, “Anywho, as for Mirror Image, you’d only get the base version, where it just adds three copies of you that do whatever it is you do. They shift around when you walk and run, but they won’t move in different ways like they do when you cast the Spell manually, so that’s also a no go.”

  Furrowing her brow in thought, Tina asked, “Then what’s these bracers good for?”

  “If we’re talking about Second Order Concentration Spells that you know?” Howie asked, tilting his head in thought. “Besides Blur and Invisibility, I guess Shadow Blade would be a good one. All the Spell does is enable you to weave shadow into a weapon, so you still got a good bit of control over the effect when cast through the matrix, unlike with so many others. Otherwise, the best use case for anyone I can think of is to maintain a Barkskin or Enhance Aspect, like Bull’s Strength or Cat’s Grace on yourself or a friendly target. Hour long Support Spells the both of them, and super useful in almost any situation. Especially Barkskin. A proper support could use the bracers to cast a basic version on themselves, then send their Vanguard in with all the extra fixings you get with familiarity. What? What’s wrong?”

  The last bit came about because Tina had stomped her foot in the dirt, and was now glowering at nothing at all because Sergeant Dixon had tricked her. Well, not tricked her, but had gotten her a set of gear that’d be more useful for a Support than a Vanguard with her Spells, because he still wanted her to prioritize the Support role over the others. Then again, if she were to learn Barkskin herself, having 2 extra hours of even the basic Spell wasn’t nothing to sneeze at, as Howie was living proof of how effective it could be even in potion form. Add in the fact that she wouldn’t have to worry about dropping Concentration on an hour-long Spell while fighting up close and personal, and she was starting to think branching out into Transmutation wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

  Prestidigitation was a Transmutation Cantrip after all, and she made plenty use of that in the sparring match, and if she got good with Barkskin, then maybe the next time Howie got shot at in a fight, her Spells could be what keeps him safe without leaving any of those nasty scars behind. Yeah, they might never be Rangers together, but Tina was still dead set on doing everything she could to support her sorta brother, and this was the best way moving forward.

  Vanguard, Support, and Disruptor. Those would be her roles, and she’d change it soon as she got back, because that’s what Howie needed most, a partner to guard him and a Support to keep him afloat, so Tina figured she might as well do both.