The summit was alive with the music of magic, and Tina was all for it.

  Wasn’t like that on the outside, not even down by the base of the mesa right by the big old mechanical door. Now that there was a nifty bit of tech that made her jaw drop, but more impressive was the torrent of Aether that came flooding out the door as soon as Howie opened it. Wasn’t anything like an actual Spell, or even a Spell-like effect, just natural flows you’d find anywhere and everywhere on the Frontier. Most of the time, they were so faint Tina could barely even perceive them without paying special attention, like stagnant air sitting utterly still save for when you interact with it, and regular people might not even know they were there.

  That how things were normally. The world was alive with magic, even though most them flows didn’t seem like they was doing much of anything at all. Then again, the same could be said of air currents, but they was responsible for the changing weather all around the world, so who knew what the flow of Aetheric currents could do? Truth was, even the smartest egg heads didn’t know all that much about Aetheric Dynamics, only how to work with them to create functional Spell Structures, Metamagic Runes, Wards, and other such Etches. Even then, it was more of an art than a science seeing how there wasn’t any fool-proof methods to making new Spells, Metamagics, or Wards, while Etched circuits in Artifacts were all about connecting point A to point B in a way so that things wouldn’t explode.

  In short, most of what they understood about Aetheric Dynamics was stuff learned through trial and error, rather than math and logic. That’s why Spellslingers had to rely on feelings and intuition alongside practice and repetition to learn how to squeeze more out of their Spells. Wasn’t no easy three-step process to modifying Spells to give you more; you just had to figure it out yourself. That’s how it was for Tina, as she used Mirror Image as often as she could while feeling out the flows, and one day figured she could finagle this flow here and wrangle that one there, and bing bang boom, Bob’s your uncle and she had a fourth duplicate come out when she cast the Spell.

  Everyone who’d ever heard of the Spell knew it was possible to get more than three illusory duplicates, same way everyone knew you could Split a Bolt to hit two separate targets or make it home in on a moving target, but that didn’t mean anyone and their mother could just do it on a whim. No one really knew how it was done, only that it was possible, the same way no one could really say how memories were made or why sleep was necessary to sling more Spells. So Tina wasn’t all that bothered by the fact that she couldn’t explain her perception of Aetheric flows, only that they were there and she could sense them easily as feeling the sun on her skin or smell the hint of flowers in Mama’s favourite soap that she done made herself.

  When the door to the mesa opened up though, Tina was almost swept away by the flows despite there not being all that much to them. It was a little like walking into a spiderweb suspended in the air, one you didn’t see, and since you wasn’t expecting it to be there, you flinch just a bit. Once she figured it out though, she was all hunky dory and set to figuring out why the mesa was so chock full of Aetheric flows. Using the same analogy, it was like she stepped into a world where air had the texture of spiderwebs, or maybe even a hundred – no – a thousand times lighter. Like the air was thicker pretty much, but not enough to really change much of anything besides how it felt, which wasn’t even unpleasant. Fact is, the flows seemed more vibrant and alive, more dynamic and energetic, more… well, just more, for lack of a better word, and it continued on in that manner as she stepped through to door and into a dark tunnel with a wide, slowly curving ramp filled with all manner of traps which that led up to the summit.

  Upon which sat a quaint little shack made of adobe brick held together by some sort of primitive concrete made from ash and lime. Tina rubbed the wall with a finger which came away all chalky and filthy, while the rough, gritty texture and varying shades of grey and black aggregate was a far cry from what they built with today, namely large chunks of carved stone or perfectly sized fired bricks held together by clean white mortar. Wasn’t none of that here up top the mesa, only obvious layer lines from where construction had failed, and visible bits and bobs sticking out from the surface, while pieces were starting to chip and erode from all parts of the building, but otherwise it looked sturdy as can be. It’d have to be, seeing how Uncle Ming built this himself before Howie was even born, so the fact that it still stood was a testament to his abilities. And Aunty Lina’s ingenuity no doubt, as Uncle Ming always said she was the one who taught him all the tips and tricks he’d brung to New Hope.

  So she was probably the one who laid all the Wards in the walls too, because Uncle Ming never knew much about Wards. Not anymore than he had to know at least, meaning how to deploy or get around the basic ones, and that was about that. Always said his wife was the brains of the operation, and he was merely the brawn, but Tina never really appreciated that fact until today. That’s because when she looked up into the early dusk sky, she saw the whole reason why the flows were thicker up here, and it was because the Wards were trapping them in. Wards she couldn’t sense in any which way whatsoever mind you, and only knew they were there because that’s where all the Aetheric flows were getting turned away.

  Was almost like she was inside a fish tank and unable to see the glass separating her from the outside world, while the thickened Aetheric Flows were akin to her water. She’d heard of containment fields like this, as they was a crucial element to a whole lot of tech like the dynamos that generated energy to power gadgets and gizmos, or Aetheric Condensers which pulled formless Aether out of the Immaterium and turned it into Crystallized Aether, but this was the first time Tina had seen the effect for herself. It was barely visible in every day tech, and wasn’t no one allowed in to see the Aetheric Condensers, but she knew good and well they was buried deep under the bank and she’d never seen anything like this. There was a clear delineation between inside the mesa and out, a fine line drawn not just in the sand, but through the very air itself to turn back any and all flows of Aether without causing any sort of disturbance whatsoever. From the outside, she hadn’t even known it was here, and far as she could tell, there wasn’t any way to tell the flows were washing over the mesa without ever actually penetrating through the formless containment field.

  It wasn’t an Illusory Ward like the one concealing the door down at the base keeping folks unaware. Which in and of itself was an impressive piece of work, seeing how Tina hadn’t even noticed there was an Illusion at work, and it looked like Mama hadn’t either. Didn’t have nothing to do with power and everything to do with subtlety and pre-conceived notions, because no one would expect anyone to hide a rock face with an illusion of a slightly different rock face. Just a few things changed and shifted here and there, barely enough for you to notice if you ran your hand over the surface itself. Was meant to hide all the little lines and markings on the real rock face that gave away the fact that it’d all been heavily modified and worked over. Presumably to get that big honking door mechanism in place, but also to hide the traps overhead and embedded into the walls too no doubt. Uncle Ming wasn’t one for half measures, and something told Tina that Aunty Lina was probably the same way.

  And brilliant to boot, which folks often said, but Tina was only now starting to understand. That Illusory Ward down there wasn’t just about book learning. Ain’t no textbook in the world that can explain how to make illusory shadows make sense or illusory stove give off the same cooling appearance as real rocks under Darkvision and the cold of winter’s night. That took practice and learning, familiarity and intuition even, same as it was for learning any sort of Spell, only Aunty Lina displayed a level of mastery that might well be a match for Tina, despite supposedly not being much of an Illusionist at all. Uncle Ming was the same way, as he could make use of Mirror Image, and even had himself 5 duplicates instead of the base 3 or 4 like Tina. Thing is, that was about the only Illusion Spell he was any good with, and he only got that way because he worked hard over the years to learn the Spell.

  As for Howie? He didn’t have an eye for Illusions. He could do sounds pretty well, but only ones he’d heard before as opposed to making them up for himself. It’d be like him trying to do an accent, only worse because he spent more hours talking than he did using Illusions to talk for him. Otherwise, Illusion was tied for dead last with Enchantment as his least competent Schools of Magic, with a marked jump up to the next School in line, namely Abjuration. Part of it had to do with his pride no doubt, because Howie did so hate to lose, and since he could never win when it came to slinging Illusions or Enchantments against Tina or Chrissy, he just stopped trying to compete. A shame that, but being able to use 5 out of 7 Schools of Magic in a competent fashion was already well above average, as most folks either stuck to one, or simply put in extra hours to learn the Spells they absolutely needed with no regard for School at all.

  Not Howie, who could pretty much pick up any Spell he wanted to, even those from the Schools of Illusion and Enchantment. Where he fell short was in execution, because unlike say a Fireball, which like most Evocation Spells was pretty much point and shoot, Illusions and Enchantments required a lot more finesse to make optimal use of the Spell. An Illusion of the ocean smack dab in the middle of a desert wasn’t gonna fool no one, and trying to calm someone with an Enchantment while holding a gun to their head was more than likely to fail. You had to tailor the Spell to the situation, or sometimes even go with a different Spell because the circumstances weren’t right for the one you’d prefer, making Illusion and Enchantment two of the more difficult Schools to grasp and master. Once you got good though? Well, then you’d be like Mama, a formidable, one-woman army all by herself, because with the right Spell and target, she could set everyone to fighting amongst themselves, or even trick some folks into fighting for her, instead of against.

  Which made Aunty Lina’s ability to craft a Ward that put one over on Mama all the more impressive. Howie’s mama spent a mere 8 months on the Frontier, during which she hunted a Proggie, developed processes to make bricks, steel, paper, cloth, reinforced glass, and a couple other things, crafted multiple Aetherarms using nothing but materials scrounged up on her own, fashioned two sets of Metamagic bead bracelets that were above and beyond what even the Rangers had access to, and filled Lord knows how many notebooks full of all sorts of knowledge and know-how, from Spells to Etches and theories of Physics and Arcana.

  And now, on top of all that, she was also a fair hand at Illusions to boot? And Conjuror and Abjurer too, judging by her accomplishments with the Mage Hand Cantrip and the Wards all around the mesa. Keep in mind, she wouldn’t have known even a lick of magic outside of the theoretical when she stepped through the Gate, meaning she done all that and progressed from knowing no magic to slinging Second Order Spells in a mere 8 months. Small wonder Howie was so talented, because his mama’s accomplishments made him look slow in the head, and Tina could hardly fathom it all as she watched the shimmering Aetheric flows bounce off the invisible Wards and circle back in on themselves.

  Chrissy was watching too, having a grand old time taking everything in and seeing the sights. Mama was a little more composed, but she had a look of wonder etched across her expression too, her head turning this way and that to study what was going on as they made their way around the decently sized mesa grounds. Was more than enough room for everyone to stretch their legs, though in typical Uncle Ming fashion, he’d kept everything small and simple when building his home up here. The main ‘house’ was a tiny thing that looked barely big enough for three, but it had two full-sized windows set with Aberrtin reinforced glass, and a couple cute touches like a pair of hanging brackets on either side of the door for plants or lanterns, as well as the buried outline of what was once a carefully laid cobblestone floor.

  Aunty Lina’s touches those, because while Uncle Ming most certainly had the skills, he lacked the inclination to add homey elements to the things he built. Fact is, if he had the time and materials, he had room enough up here to build a house and ranch to match what they had back home.

  Their house, not Uncle Ming’s, which these days sat empty and unused. Belonged to Chrissy too, because Howie had sold it to her for a dollar which he’d never collect to avoid the land and everything on it going to the Federal government after he was Exiled. Which was a smart move to be sure, though having the cultists help him with the paperwork instead of Mama didn’t do him any favours. Wasn’t like Tina wanted the land either, but Howie still expected her to do all the work that went into maintaining the place. Had to rake the leaves and maintain the lawn, unleashing the wallies to keep the grass short while making sure they didn’t tear the ground up or nothing. Also had to go in and make sure there wasn’t no mold or moisture build ups, and dust the place every other week at the very least, all on top of her Ranger training mind you without so much as a word of thanks.

  So if Howie knew Tina was gonna be stuck with all the work anyways, why didn’t he just sign the title over to her?

  It was a silly, meaningless detail that didn’t change nothing about anything, but it was still a gripe Tina couldn’t let go of. Made her sour to even think about it, and gave Howie a sideways glare out of pique, only to immediately feel terrible because she saw how he looked, and there wasn’t no better way to describe it than sad. Even with his Darkvision goggles on, he looked overwrought with emotion, stood there at the ramp entrance in poignant silence while looking at everything his daddy had built. No, at where his daddy had died no doubt, somewhere right by his feet that he kept glancing down at, remembering that terrible moment when Uncle Ming was taken away from all of them by the three bodies they was about to return to the Qin. Small wonder Howie would be looking so upset, and doubly so since he’d lost the only home he’d ever know, the house he’d grown up in that Tina was so sour about having to maintain. Couldn’t be easy starting over somewhere else, even if it was only a 2-hour boat ride away, because those 2 hours changed a whole lot about everything.

  He couldn’t pop on over for meals anytime he pleased, or head on out for an ice cream or pastry whenever the mood struck him. If he needed to buy or sell something at market, he had to make a request to the Sheriff’s office at least two weeks in advance, and every time he did show up he’d be menaced by the guards or glared at from all angles until he left. To go back to the quay where he lived all by his lonesome mind you, save for the occasional visit from smugglers looking to move in on Rimepeak or hitmen hoping to make their name by killing him. Didn’t even have a home to call his own, just a bunch of buildings he owned and maintained, 37 in total to be exact, while Tina was getting all bent out of shape looking after 1.

  So being the good sorta sister that she was, she sidled on over to Howie’s side and stood with him for a bit, letting her shoulder brush against his without getting all up in his space. Time was she’d simply throw her arms around him and hug him tight, but that’d do more harm than good these days. Least it would from her, as Chrissy had no qualms about doing just that, and Howie just chuckled and asked, “That bad, huh? Thought I hid it better.”

  “Can’t hide nothin’ from family,” Tina said, leaning in close to be a part of the hug, and wonder of wonders, Howie didn’t pull away for once. Might be because he was really feeling that sad, or maybe the last week of travel had brung them all closer like Mama had hoped.

  Was good to remind him that he still had family to lean on, and it looked like it’d worked, because after a few seconds of pretending he wasn’t down in the dumps, he heaved a sigh and said, “Well, this here is home away from home, I suppose. Let’s get our guest settled into the shed, and then I’ll give y’all the tour.”

  “The shed?” Slipping in beside them to rest her arms on Tina’s shoulders, Mama glanced at Who Sheng sat silently atop his Floating Disc all a shimmering with magic and asked, “He gonna be warm enough in there? Ain’t hardly wearing much of anything, and certainly not enough for the weather we got here.”

  Wouldn’t know it from his expression, as the kid looked calm and collected as could be. Too calm and collected even, seeing how this was where his daddy died too. Tina still got shivers whenever she passed the field where her daddy was thrown from his mare after her hoof found its way into a hole in the ground. As for this kid? He just sat there all relaxed and unconcerned even though he could clearly hear them talking about him while he was bound and blindfolded to boot. In a threadbare greatcoat which was thinner than some of Tina’s dresses mind you, making it a poor insulator regardless of what material it came in, which didn’t seem like anything special either. At least his ushanka was lined with fur, though not from any animal she could recognize, nor would it be one she’d use to keep warm judging by how thin and short the reddish-brown fur was.

  And yet in spite of it all, Who Sheng seemed untouched by the chilling winds that cut Tina to the quick every time they slipped past her Imbued cloak. Even her padded winter jacket wasn’t enough to keep her warm, not up here on the exposed mesa in pitch black darkness with no source of warmth to be had except one another. A though which almost made her heart bleed for the kid, but not Howie, who simply said, “He’ll be fine. I’ll leave him a blanket. Let’s go.”

  Credit where it was due, Who Sheng didn’t argue the facts or even hesitate to stand and follow, tracking Howie’s movements even through the thick blindfold and following him right up to the shed. Which was empty and about as sturdy as the house, which was to say not at all, but it wasn’t likely to collapse anytime soon at least. Upon hearing the door scrape against the floor, the kid marched on in without prompting and stopped just shy of the back wall, showing more of that phenomenal spatial awareness that he had. Took a seat on the ground, and Howie made good on his promise and tossed a thick horse blanket in, though he made no move to undo the bindings or blindfold. Instead, he pulled out his Silence Artifact and set it up atop a beam overhead, probably so the kid couldn’t just kick it over and do away with the effect.

  Now, Tina had her reservations about the kid, but she felt a dire need to speak up. “You know,” she began, only to immediately regret opening her mouth when Howie’s lips puckered like he done just ate something sour. “In training, they taught us a little about enhanced interrogation and how to resist it.”

  “Yeah, SERE,” Howie replied, and Tina had no earthly idea what he was talking about. “Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape,” he explained. “SERE. Whole concept started during the Second World War once word got out of how prisoners were being treated by the Axis. Can’t always count on your enemies to abide by the rules of war, so the Brits started prepping their people for the worst, and they kept up with it long after the war ended.”

  “Oh,” Tina said, as she was hearing all of this for the first time, as they hadn’t gone all that in depth about it. “Um… well, Sergeant Begaye said that one thing they’ll do is put prisoners in a bubble of silence wearing a blindfold with hands bound behind their back. Leaves them only two senses to work with, and no real room to move, so all they got are their thoughts to keep them occupied. Which don’t seem all that bad, except he also said that the average human mind ain’t equipped to deal with prolonged periods of complete silence, as we rely more on it than we think. Without any sound to hear, it ratchets up the anxiety, because it leaves you vulnerable and helpless against ambush, which combined with the blindfold and bound arms tends to drive prisoners into a spiraling panic.”

  “Yeah, but he’ll be fine,” Howie said, waving off all her concerns with little to no conviction and continuing to secure the Silence Artifact in place. “Takes a good bit of time to have any effect, as they essentially driving themselves into a tizzy with their own thoughts because they can’t handle the vulnerability. The kid loves meditation, so I’m sure he won’t mind, and if he does, I only need him quiet for a bit so I can kick up my feet and relax. I want this trip over and done with A.S.A.P, so the sooner he starts diggin’, the sooner we can all head home and never see one another again. Would be a real shame if he did somethin’ stupid in the meantime though, like try and escape while I rest. Then I’d have to hurt him real bad, unless he goes too far, at which point I’ll make him wish he was dead.”

  The last was said for Who Sheng’s benefit, and Tina didn’t like it one bit. Course, her sympathy for the kid was on par with the discomfort she got from his uncanny ability to track Howie’s position despite not being able to see anything at all. Could swear the kid met Howie’s eyes, his head snapping up to lock stares in a silent contest of wills before uttering in clipped tones, “I am your prisoner. My mission here is to see that the remains of our Ancestors are returned to be entombed within a mausoleum deserving of their status. I will not do anything to jeopardize this.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Long as we clear,” Howie replied, scowling something fierce to hear that the men who killed his daddy were considered Heroes of the Republic. Didn’t say nothing else, just activated the Artifact, backed Tina out the shed, and closed the door on the kid. The door didn’t have no locks, so he made do with tying the door shut with a rope and simple knot, one Tina didn’t know the name of but would undoubtedly do the job Howie needed it to do. Tied it with his Mage Hands all nice and neat, those Spectral the fingers moving quick as can be even though they was the result of a Cantrip. The upcasted version of his Mage Hands were much brighter and substantial, with a hefty weight to the Conjuration that was difficult to explain, and truth was, Tina might not notice the difference between the Cantrip and Third Order versions with only a quick glance.

  When the shed was secured and they were a good bit away, Tina glanced back and said, “Don’t know how the Qin teach their kids, but it makes them downright unsettlin’ to be sure. Ain’t nothin’ rattlin’ him, now is it?”

  “Wasn’t like that after the fight,” Howie replied, giving her a wry look that showed even through his googles. “Was all jumpy and hopped up on adrenaline he was, but he calmed right down after the fact. Gotta give him that.”

  By then, they were already at the door to the house proper, with Mama and Chrissy both already inside, setting up around a polished rock sat on the floor that looked to double as a dining table. Wasn’t no fireplace or chimney to be found, nor any chairs or sinks, just a row of flattened stones along the back end that made do for a kitchen counter. It wasn’t what anyone would call luxurious, but it was well lived in, with the empty space all arranged in a manner which made Tina wonder what used to be there. Howie’s mama was a brilliant woman who had her hand in many things, so where did she do her gunsmithing, notetaking, knitting, or cooking? Was a mystery to be sure, but she imagined Aunty Lina once had more than a few tools hanging from the walls judging by all the hooks stuck into them. There were rows of empty pegs too, perfect for hanging blankets or tapestries to help seal in the warmth during winter, one they would’ve weathered well if Aunty Lina hadn’t died in childbirth.

  Happened to one in three woman it did, and Tina shuddered to think of how scary it must be, not to mention painful to boot. Babies were small, but not that small, and she had no desire to find out firsthand what passing one through her hoo-ha would feel like. Struck a chord in her even as the thought passed through her head, because Howie had totally been ready to be a daddy even if he hadn’t planned on it. Soon as he realized it might be a possibility, he not only bought Josie a wedding right, but he also bought a whole bunch of wood and stone and asked Mama for names of architects to help plan and design the house he was gonna build for him and Josie, whereas Tina had yet to figure out what was so great about boys that had so many of the other girls making goo-goo eyes at them.

  Made her feel right childish it did, being so far behind the curve of not just Howie, but the likes of Errol and Sarah Jay with their whirlwind romance and Michael and Gabriella with their hot and cold sort of thing. All very different kinds of romances mind you, and not a one made much sense at all at first glance, but everyone just accepted it like it was and said, “That’s love.”

  Tina didn’t understand it one bit, and she was understanding Howie less and less with each passing day. He was still her sorta brother, and she understood his chagrin, but that kid in the shed was maybe 13 at most, even accounting for how a lotta Qin looked younger than their years. Made her feel right sorry for the kid, bound, blindfolded, and deafened out in the shed with only a blanket haphazardly thrown over him to ward off the chill. Couldn’t stop thinking about him as they ate in relative silence due to the somber mood of mourning, though it was also partially just exhausted relief after so many days of hard travel.

  The thoughts only got worse once Howie bunked down for the night alongside Mama and Chrissy while Tina took first watch, same as she had most nights this trip. Told herself it was bad idea, for more reasons than one. Even if the kid was telling the truth and meant them no harm, she’d be crossing Howie which was a surefire way to get him right hopping mad, and there was no way she could hide it from him if she did. Still, it didn’t sit right with her, because leaving the kid in a bubble of Silence for an extended period of time might not be torture, but it was much too close to the line for her liking. If she was gonna be a Ranger, then she couldn’t just learn what Howie had to teach her, she also had to take a stand when he tried to teach her the wrong thing too.

  Is what she told herself, but a real Ranger wouldn’t have waited for Howie to fall asleep before heading over to the toolshed to open up the door and take down the Silence Artifact, nor would they be dreading his reaction. The kid didn’t seem none too grateful for her efforts, as he was sat upright with head bowed in meditation, and only raised it after she shut the artifact off. Locked eyes with her through his blindfold in that uncanny manner of his, and gave a little tilt of his head that seemed all sorts of off for some reason. Wasn’t because it looked odd in and of itself, but because the mannerisms didn’t fit him, not sat like he was with legs together and folded to one side. Was a very childish and almost feminine way to sit, and his pursed lips and sullen pout didn’t help matters much, not when he was also stifling a soft sigh of relief. Yeah, young Who Sheng might be aces at meditation, but things got real unnerving real quick when you couldn’t hear yourself breathe or the sound of your own heartbeat.

  “He will not be pleased,” the kid said, as if Howie’s mood was his sole concern, so much so that his voice started off much too high only to drop low in his fake and strained sort of growly voice. “It would be best if you turned the Artifact back on and left me be.”

  “You let me worry about Howie,” Tina said, waving the kid’s concerns away and striking a confident pose before remembering he couldn’t actually see her. “I can handle him well enough.” And if she couldn’t she still had Mama. Wasn’t like she was doing this on a lark either, as she had her 1911 in hand with a round in the chamber and her safety flipped off, because it did seem awful strange for the Qin to wait all this time before coming to collect their dead. “You hungry?” she asked, hoping to kill him with kindness and maybe get him to slip up some. “I got some dried pemmican bars that’ll fill you up right quick. It’s a little greasy without any bread or hardtack to soak it up, but it’s still pretty good.”

  Who Sheng swallowed, licked his lips, and nodded, but then said, “I have a need to use the washroom.” A request which got Tina to frowning, because while she was happy to hand feed the kid, helping him go to the bathroom was a whole other kettle of fish. The kid looked so miserable though, and she knew good and well he hadn’t gone in almost a full day, so Tina thumbed the hammer back on her 1911 just so he could hear it.

  “Got my weapon trained on you now,” she said, backing away two steps just in case he tried for a blind lunge. “You get up nice and slow, then slowly walk forwards to the sound of my voice.” The kid followed instructions to a T, moving step by careful step, short and cautious heel-toe steps that again made him look very childish or feminine, like a kid who done knew they were coming home to a lecture and was reluctant to step through the door, but knew good and well there was no avoiding whatever may come. Took some doing, but Tina eventually got Who Sheng to the entrance of the outhouse, where she grimaced before undoing the kid’s wrist bindings with only minor difficulty. “You do what you gotta do,” she said, moving off to one side as she did. “Leave the door open so I can make sure you ain’t up to no funny business, but I can assure you I got no interest in seeing your dangly bits.”

  God’s honest truth, the kid’s cheeks turned a shade of red Tina had only ever seen on Danny. He didn’t say nothing else though, just made his way into the outhouse without fumbling and dropped trough to have a seat. Tina kept the kid’s figure in her peripheral vision and hummed a tune in her head to drown out the noise, because poor Who Sheng sounded like he wasn’t just making up for lost time, but doing all that he could to make room enough to no need to use the outhouse again for a whole other week. Poor kid must be going through it, because aside from digging up his daddy, he had to subject himself to this sort of humiliation too, which wasn’t right at all. Surely there was a better way to ensure he didn’t sling any Spells or cause any trouble, but if there was, Tina couldn’t think of any less stringent methods that Howie would accept.

  The ordeal was embarrassing for the both of them, as Tina had no desire to sit through all of this, but no matter how much she commiserated with the kid, she would not allow him out of her sight even for a moment while his hands were unbound. Thankfully it was more or less short-lived, even if it was a long singular instance of such events, and Tina was so relieved when it all came to an end she didn’t catch the kid casting a Spell until it was too late to stop him.

  Aether flowed towards him in an all too familiar manner, one Tina had seen countless times before but couldn’t quite place in the moment as she stiffened up in surprise and horror both. Her 1911 was already aimed centre mass, and her finger sitting pretty on the trigger, so all she had to do was twitch and she’d paint the outhouse red with young Who Sheng’s blood. It’d be easy, so very easy, but she’d have to live with it for the rest of her life, knowing that if she had left him well enough alone, he might not have seen an opportunity and tried something stupid. Might have just stuck to the mission like he said he would and return home with the bodies he’d been sent to collect, instead of getting buried right there alongside them because that’s what Howie would do.

  Frozen with indecision, Tina stood there and watched until the decision was out of her hand. The coward’s way out, and dangerous to boot, because he could well have killed or at least gravely injured her in that moment of hesitation, and then where would the rest of them be? Fast asleep with a hostile Qin Vanguard on the loose, because wasn’t a single citizen of the Qin Republic who didn’t consider themselves military personnel. They acted like it too, following a strict chain of command where the punishment for disobedience was summary execution and your fellow soldiers would only quietly wonder why you hadn’t fallen in line.

  Thankfully for everyone involved, Who Sheng was true to his word and meant no harm to Tina or anyone else just yet. His Spell wasn’t nothing but a Water Sphere he used to wash up, a reflexive Cantrip cast out of fastidious habit and nothing else. Tina almost laughed to see it, mostly out of sheer relief, but partially because the kid was a real stickler for cleanliness and scrubbed both hands vigorously inside the ball of Ecto Water, even frowning as if upset by the lack of soaps to help him along. Took him a hot minute to notice Tina’s consternation, and hand to God his cheeks turned an even darker shade of red as he bowed his head in hangdog fashion that she supposed was some sort of apology.

  Tina should’ve known it was Water Sphere, but the pressure got to her and she couldn’t place the flows. Didn’t help that Who Sheng used different gestures and chants from what Tina was used to, with none of the blossoming flower fingers or poorly translated Latin. At least the kid had grace enough to apologize, or maybe thank Tina for not killing him dead on sight, though a small part of her was wondering if all this wasn’t some sort of limit test, with him pushing to see how far he could go before getting gunned down on the spot. That was a level of deviousness she couldn’t pin on the kid though, not one who went bright red at the thought of doing his business in front of a girl. Course, Tina herself might turn that same shade if their roles were reversed, though it wouldn’t matter if the other party was a man or woman, because she didn’t want anyone hearing her use the ladies room.

  With Who Sheng’s issues all settled, Tina walked him back to the toolshed and gave him a bar of pemmican to eat. Wasn’t a huge bar, but a couple bites of pemmican would give you more than enough to power on through the day. Took him a fair few tries to get it all down, as all that grease could be mighty unappealing if you wasn’t used to the texture, but Tina didn’t mind one bit. Between his quiet thanks and embarrassed attitude, she couldn’t bring herself to tie him back up and turn the Silence Artifact back on, not without a few modifications at least. It was for the best really, as she bound his hands behind his back once more before turning the dials on the Artifact to create a dome of Silence rather than a bubble, one that would isolate all noise within and keep anything from leaving or piercing through, but wouldn’t leave the poor kid sequestered in complete silence for a few hours more yet.

  With that done, Tina barred the tool shed door once more and resumed her watch, even though there wasn’t nothing to be seen. The traps and Wards would either stop Abby in their tracks or turn them away before they even thought to try and see what was up on this mesa, and she could only imagine what magics Aunty Lina had laid into her work to keep naturally flying Abby away. A Protection from Aberration Ward could discourage them from approaching, but not enough to keep them from trying if they had numbers enough, or reporting back to their Proggie who would most certainly order a larger, more decisive attack.

  When it came time for Mama’s turn to stand watch, Tina sheepishly tiptoed back into the stone shack, only to stop in her tracks when she found Howie sitting upright with his back against the wall. And eyes closed in sleep, with Chrissy curled up beside him like a joey who done grown too large to fit in the pouch but wasn’t quite ready to give up on it just yet. Unable to restrain her smile, Tina hurried over to take Mama’s still warm spot and hugged his arm ever so gently so as not to wake him. Was no good though, as he stirred a bit before settling back down with a long, slow exhale. “Sorry,” she whispered, and she really was, but since he was awake anyways, she figured no harm in getting a little more comfortable and resting her head on his shoulder now that she didn’t have to worry about disturbing him.

  “No harm, no foul,” he replied, leaning closer to touch heads in a natural gesture that made her feel like they’d turned back the clock a whole decade at least.

  Made her feel downright guilty for going around behind his back like she did, especially since she was supposed to be standing watch, not putting them all in more danger. “I gotta get somethin’ off my chest,” she blurted, without even realizing what she was about to say, and then it was too late because she told him everything and now had to wait to see what he’d say.

  Nothing at first, just a long and tired sigh as he processed what she’d done. “Tina,” he began, his head still pressed against hers, only now with more weight to it. “Don’t you ever go around my back like that. We family. If you disagree with something I do, then you come right out and say it, then tell me what you about to do so I can at least watch you back while you do it.” He stirred beside her, and for a moment, she thought he was gonna push her away and send her to sleep in the corner by her lonesome or something, but he was just gently freeing himself from Chrissy’s grasp and laying her head down on a folded blanket. “Since I’m up now, you can stand to lose a few minutes of sleep. Come here.” There wasn’t much of anywhere to go, but she followed him over to the back row of stone hewn countertops all the same, and watched as he reached behind one and fiddled around for a bit. Then there was an audible click as the countertop sank into the floor to reveal a staircase leading down into the mesa underground, a track Tremoursensing Abby would be sure to hone in on should they ever find it.

  Howie didn’t seem none too concerned as he slid down and landed lightly about a second after he disappeared into the darkness. “Ain’t a long drop,” he whispered, standing in pure darkness and expecting her to trust him at his word. Which she did, but that didn’t make it any easier to jump into the mysterious pit blind. Almost like he could read her mind, his hand stretched up out of the darkness to show here there was nothing to be afraid of, and suddenly Tina’s worries all melted away. Even though Howie had changed a fair bit, he was still the same sorta brother who’d always look out for her first, even if he didn’t much care to look after others anymore. That was something at least, so she stepped down into the hole and trusted the process as he kept her steady and safe as she landed on both feet. The flows of Aether seemed more alive than ever as she took a moment to adjust to new surroundings while Howie led her forward into the darkness for a few paces more before stopping short to fiddle around with some more mechanisms like at the base of the mesa.

  Only this time, when the stone shifted to reveal what lay behind, Tina sensed more than saw what awaited them there and all the pieces finally fell into place.

  It didn’t look like much at first glance, not when Howie called up a ball of Dancing Light to illuminate the soft, shiny metallics. Was mostly made of copper or brass it looked like, a bunch of hollow tubes going this way and that in all manner of curves and directions, though most were a straight shot up and down. Stood six foot nothing at the tallest, and maybe a half foot a the shortest, with an obvious intake valve and many not so obvious outtakes that connected to other pipes that went right into the stone wall and vented out into the open air, or so Tina presumed. Because everyone knew these things produced fumes you didn’t want to inhale, even though they didn’t smell like much of anything you’d recognize with a sniff. Not unless you added an aromatic to the exhaust, which is what you was supposed to do when running a machine like this, but this one didn’t look much like it was on the level. Was a rickety, slapdash contraption no different from the shack Uncle Ming built over top it, a serviceable but hardly presentable piece of work that was worth far more than appearances would have you believe.

  Except while the shack atop the mesa was valuable for all the memories and history contained within, this here Aetheric Condenser was valuable because it might as well be a money printer that produced crystal Aether all the livelong day. All it needed was some biomass to get it going and it’d pump out enough of them sparkling purple rocks that folks used to power all manner of modern inventions, from the kettle and hot plate which drew power from Howie’s wagon to the prosthetic Automaton strapped to his wrist, as well as the bullets in their Aetherarms that used 10, 15, 40 or more Grainage a shot.

  And judging by the barrels and barrels stuff full of the stuff, as well as the uncollected heap piling up near the condenser’s output, Howie had enough crystal Aether to keep his guns loaded for years to come, even after accounting for all the other necessary materials.

  “This right here is what drove my parents all the way out here,” Howie said, giving the condenser an unceremonious slap to the hood like it was a malfunctioning Freeze-box or something. “They struck it big their first day and brought down a Proggie using nothing but slings, fire, and good old fashioned human ingenuity. My mama lured the Proggie’s guardian gobbos away, only for my daddy to rush in with a torch and tinder to set it aflame. The goblins would turn around and try to get him good, and my mama would follow up behind and throw fuel onto the fire while chipping away at the gobbo numbers.”

  All of which sounded simple enough, but would’ve been a game of inches to take part of in person. One wrong move and them gobbos would’ve been on them, or worse, they’d have gotten tangled up in the Proggie’s grasping tentacles, and Tina didn’t fancy her chances against one in the here and now. Never mind that she had Second Order Spells and Aetherarms out the wazoo, she still wouldn’t dare to get close enough to a Proggie to toss a basket of pitch or burning torch at it. Wasn’t like they had any molotovs, as they’d only just arrived on the Frontier, meaning Uncle Ming and Aunty Lina was probably buck nekkid to boot while fighting off gobbos in the seemingly vain hopes of vanquishing a Proggie with little more than their bare hands.

  No Spells. No Aetherarms. No gear or fallback plans. Nothing but good old fashion guts and grit, and a whole lot of gumption to boot. That’s how they brought down the Proggie, and that’s how they was able to process its corpse into a Aetheric Condenser, as well as probably put parts of it into the powerful Wards surrounding the mesa in its entirety. Unaware of how Tina was putting the pieces together, Howie told her the story in full, how his parents started up north making a home by the Serpent’s Fang Mountain Range with a crude Condenser working at full blast, which was enough to let Aunty Lina put together some Aetherarms which Uncle Ming used with nigh impunity while most were armed with stone daggers fixed to wooden twigs using woven grass. Made them stand out it did, so much so they became the targets to a group of opportunistic Settlers who attacked them in the middle of the night thinking them easy prey.

  “Too many shots, that’s what gave them away,” Howie said, lost in the memories even though he wasn’t there. No, he was locked in the memory of hearing his daddy tell him the story, and Tina wished she could’ve heard it from him firsthand too. “Wasn’t no one mining Crystal Aether in bulk just yet, no military outfits gathered in numbers enough to pull something off like that. So them would-be bandits put two and two together and attacked my parents, because they knew them young Qin kids either had a Condenser or a line on a poorly guard source of crystal Aether, to say nothing of the gunsmith in their midst. One or the other, and it didn’t matter to them which it was, because guns and ammo meant safety and security to them all, and they was willing to risk everything for it.”

  Tina could hardly imagine what that’d be like, two 16-year-olds struggling to fill their bellies with food and keep themselves safe from Abby and wildlife alike, only to be set upon by bandits in the dead of night. Small wonder Howie didn’t trust no one out in the wild Frontier, because he knew how dark people’s hearts could really be, seen it all firsthand and come out smiling from ear to ear. It must have been terrible for Uncle Ming and Aunty Lina too, bad enough to send them running to safety here right next to the Divide, all because they done struck it rich and didn’t look strong enough to safeguard their wealth. A move that would ultimately claim Aunty Lina’s life later on down the line, because she didn’t have no one here to watch over her and staunch her bleeding as she gave birth to the Firstborn of the Frontier.

  Small wonder Howie wasn’t smiling at the sight of all this wealth, or spending it hand over fist like he was wont to do. No, this fortune was bought and paid for with the blood of his mama, so he’d hold onto it for as long as he could, because even though he knew it wasn’t even a remote possibility, he’d trade it all and more to have his mama back again.

  “If I ever don’t make it home,” Howie said, his tone grave and sombre as can be, “The instructions on how to get her and get around all the locks and traps are written in my daddy’s Spellbook. In English, but there’s a cipher you gotta use to decode it, the bible he keeps on the shelf in our old home. Can’t be any old bible, as that’s an early edition print, so the cipher won’t work with newer editions that have been modified here and there.”

  “Why don’t you take some of this back to spend?” Tina asked, unable to wrap her mind around why the spend happy Howie was being so thrifty with his wealth. Emotional value aside, he always said that it was best to spend cash while the spending was still good. Course, crystallized Aether would hold its value far better than cash, as it would only appreciate until after the Watershed when liquid Aether became more attainable and sought after. Even then, he could make some modifications to the Aetheric Condenser and have it produce liquid Aether instead, though he’d need a pressurized tank and a bunch of other gear and gadgets to do so safely.

  “Same reason why my parents ran out all this way to hide it,” Howie replied, giving her a look that warned her against telling anyone anything about this. “Folks will kill for an Aetheric Condenser, and I ain’t just talking bandits and outlaws. Small government outfits might start looking my way, and larger ones like the Feds and the Métis won’t ever say no to another Condenser to help make ends meet. You know how it is. These things are technically illegal for civilians to own, as it’s too ‘dangerous’ and needs to be ‘regulated’, but it’s all about seizing the wealth for themselves.” Shrugging, Howie gave a smile and said, “Before today, the only other person besides me and my parents who’d ever laid eyes on this condenser here was your daddy, and he was the one who told mine to keep his cards close to his vest.”

  That sounded like Daddy alright, because even though he was a Ranger to the core, he also had a fierce independent streak that he shared with so many other southerners. The Feds might call the shots, but it was daddy’s choice whether he wanted to listen or not, and wouldn’t no one tell him otherwise. That little bit of history really brightened up Tina’s day, but only for a moment before Howie’s smile melted away and he heaved a soft little sigh.

  “Alright Songbird,” he said, using her Callsign to put some distance between them even as he threw an arm around her shoulder and led her back out to the shack. “I’ll show you how to load it up with honey and biomass in the morning. Time we both got some sleep, after I check on your mama to make sure she ain’t set our prisoner up in the wagon where we keep all our spare guns and ammo just so he’ll be comfier.”

  Tina stifled a laugh, then straightened up in alarm, because funny as it might seem, that was just the sort of thing Mama might do in her rush to offer that warm southern hospitality Americans were so well known for. Course, not all of them bought into it like Mama, but that never stopped her from being herself, so Howie’s concerns were valid ones, albeit a little farfetched. She’d probably take the guns and ammo away first, which only left the Big Stick up top, but Howie had already taken all the ammo away to store inside the house.

  So Tina headed up with a bit of a bounce in her step, partially because of her worries, and partially because she was glad to have shared in this secret with Howie. He’d probably end up telling Mama too, who’d be equally conflicted as Tina about the legalities of it all, but neither one of them would ever betray Howie’s trust, not when it came to something like this. They might not approve of him keeping an Aetheric Condenser for himself, but they would respect his decision to do so, because that sort of freedom and independence was what every red-blooded American dreamed of, and it wasn’t their place to take this dream away from Howie.

  Not after his parents worked so hard for it, and got nothing in return from the Feds. That there was still a sore spot for Tina, but she figured she’d be a Ranger just like her daddy, one who was for the people and would stand against tyranny, no matter what flag they might be flying.