“I still say that the odds were stacked in your favor,” Maeryn grumbled between bites of chicken. “Also, I can tell this isn’t Luminwing. There’s something missing in the flavor.”
Jacob swallowed his latest mouthful, nodding along. “I know, right? It’s subtle, but there’s definitely something that’s just not there. And of course the odds were stacked in my favor. Internal enhancement magic is my specialty. But anything else might actually leave one of us injured. And you almost won anyway.”
“I’ll get you next time,” Maeryn promised darkly.
Jacob grinned boyishly, and she realized belatedly that she’d just volunteered to another spar date with him. “You can try,” he challenged, a sparkle in his gaze.
She rolled her eyes at him goodnaturedly, trying not to let on how she was considering turning their spar dates into actual dates someday. Or at least, not saying no if he asked first.
Jacob had comforted her at her absolute lowest more than once. He’d confronted her when she was about to do something she’d regret, forced her to take a hard look at herself, and ultimately guided her towards self-forgiveness. He was… well, Maeryn could do far, far worse in a partner. And she was almost completely certain he liked her that way, too.
Depths alone knew why. She didn’t have any experience with romance at all, but she’d seen how things usually went with other hunters. Men were supposed to look for women who supported them in the ways they lacked, right? Hard men liked soft women, typically. Maeryn had lost count of the number of hunters who married some “nice girl” who took care of them at home. Men and women alike.
Maeryn honestly didn’t get why. Or at least, she hadn’t until now. With fire, she burned with competition and drive. But now, without it, everything took so much more energy. Having a quiet, low-demand partner, and a place to relax and just be? It still wasn’t for her, probably, but she could understand the appeal.
But if that was the usual model, though, there was no way she and Jacob should work. It certainly didn’t help that she had so much baggage. Trauma, and insecurities. By the hearth, Jacob had seen her about to raise human Undead against people who’d surrendered to her!
If he had any sense, he’d have run. But he hadn’t. It was… flattering. A little. And she kind of wanted to try, to see if they could make it work. But she just… Maeryn couldn’t give him the time he deserved. Not with the world the way it was. Not with her about to go on another weeks-long—maybe months-long—journey. And… not with her broken like this from her missing fire magic. It wouldn’t be fair for either of them.
Maeryn played idly with one of the chicken bones on her plate. This sucked. If she’d still had her fire, she probably would’ve said something by now. Addressed the tension between them. It was the right thing to do. But she just… couldn’t.
“Everything alright?” Jacob asked, concerned.
She put on a smile for him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“You. Us,” she didn’t say. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Just wondering if it’s worth asking if you wanted to come along to the Glacial Expanse. I know you’ve got your new Hallowed organization to take care of, but you know you’d be welcome.”
Jacob’s face relaxed, the concern fading. “I want to, of course. But yeah, it’d be pretty bad form to just up and vanish right after things get official.”
“Yeah, I figured that’d be the case.” That didn’t stop the little seed of disappointment from blooming in her gut, though. “I’m gonna miss you.”
Maeryn froze the moment the words escaped her lips. Abyss. She hadn’t meant to say that.
“Same,” Jacob agreed quietly. “While you’re gone, I’m going to try to learn wind magic. The moment I learn Wind Whisper, you’re the first person I’ll send a message to.”
“I’ll watch for it,” she promised. “And I’ll send a message every morning after we get to the Glacial Expanse. To let you know how I’m doing.”
Jacob nodded. His mouth opened, then closed without saying anything.
Maeryn wondered if he felt it too. That edge of a confession, hovering between them. She tensed; if he asked her here, now, she would have to say no. As much as she wanted to explore what they could have, they just didn’t have the time. She hoped he wouldn’t make her say it.
But the moment passed, and Jacob looked away with a sigh. “Any news on your parents?” he asked, changing the subject.
Maeryn shook her head without a word. Her parents had been taken to Captain Erina on some airship somewhere, and no method to get a message to her had borne fruit. She knew they were still alive thanks to necromancy, but nothing more.
Jacob reached across the table. “We’ll find them,” he promised. “You focus on what you gotta do. I’ll make sure people don’t give up over here.”
“Okay.” Maeryn gripped his hand and squeezed, once, before they both let go. She took a deep breath and stood, the ex-hunter joining her a moment later. “It’s time. As much as I’d love to sit and talk all day, we both have things we have to do. Let’s not wait so long next time, alright?”
“Yeah.” Jacob smiled, though she could see through it easily enough. “Next week, if you’re still in Siltwind?”
“Or the day after I get back,” Maeryn agreed.
Jacob put some money down on the table, and the two of them went their separate ways: he to the train station, and Maeryn to Stonewing.
Ernesto was waiting for her, positively vibrating with excitement. “Captain! We just got word from Flamespire! Frankie and Peter cracked it! They’ve got a reproducible transport prototype that works even when it’s cold as the abyss’s nethers—Frankie’s words, not mine. They’re going to spend a few days making enough for each of us, and they’ll be here in six days.”
“That’s great news!” Maeryn enthused. “Since Dan’s on his way back from Airspire, then that just means we’re waiting for Terrance and Veronica.”
“Heard from them, too, actually,” Ernesto said brightly. “They’re on their way back, too. They didn’t say anything about the library they were looking for, but I’m sure we’ll hear more when we see them. Everyone’ll be back about the same time.”
“That’s convenient.” Maeryn heard what he left unsaid, though. That they’d probably be leaving shortly thereafter. At least she had a timeframe. Six days to wrap up anything that needed to happen locally, and then they’d be off to the Glacial Expanse. A frozen wasteland constantly bombarded by ice storms. Without her fire magic.
If there was literally any other option, Maeryn would have condemned the idea as one of the stupidest ever conceived. But no, this was the reality she lived in. Ugh. Hopefully holy mana’s Warmth would at least keep the frostbite at bay. Even so, she just knew that this whole trip was going to suck.
“Alright,” she said with false cheer. “Let’s get our stuff taken care of.”
“On it!” Ernesto practically skipped out of the airship, and Maeryn felt exhaustion tugging at her just watching him. It was a little muted, though, with her current earth attunement. That alone was worth its weight in precious metals. She was probably going to be switching between earth and holy for a while, just for that level of comfort.
A wave of sadness washed over her as she realized that those were Jacob’s elements, too. “Stupid world and its stupid coincidences,” she muttered bitterly. “Just ignore it, Rin. Get the job done, then rest.”
The rest of the week passed quickly. There really wasn’t much for Maeryn to manage, with Ernesto having taken as much as possible off her plate, so she spent nearly all of her time keeping to a simple routine. An extended workout in the morning, some practice with all of her available mana elements in the afternoon, some meditation afterwards, and guitar practice in her room in the evenings.
Her earth attunement made sticking to the routine surprisingly easy. Having a plan laid out every day, with simple goals, aligned perfectly with Earth Maeryn’s paradigm of simply doing what needed to be done. She hadn’t realized how utterly exhausting depression actually was, but having the contrast of stoic, solid Maeryn able to just keep plodding along made it crystal clear. It was like, like putting her body on autopilot almost. Turning her brain off while she managed the physical demands, like her exercises, just felt good.
That couldn’t be healthy. Could it?
She had the sinking suspicion that people would call it a coping mechanism. Well, if it was, so be it. It worked, so she was using it. If there were downsides, she’d deal with them later. If they ever came up. Which they wouldn’t, because she was going to get her fire back before it became a problem.
Right. That was her story, and she was sticking to it. No matter how far away even that dream felt.
Maeryn also learned, much to her surprise, that heavy blankets were absolutely amazing if she fell asleep while aligned with earth. After the third night, she even went back to Falan Ruins, descended into the hidden underground reservoir—she replaced the boulder blocking the entrance, of course—and kind of… buried herself in heavy, compacted dirt up to her chest. Just as an experiment.
The blanket of dirt had warmed up surprisingly quickly under her body heat, and she drifted off to sleep without issue. She woke up the following morning more refreshed than she could remember—at least, ever since she’d fought the Ninth Undead Legion.
Maeryn had no idea why it worked, but she absolutely wasn’t going to argue. It was just too bad she wouldn’t be able to keep it up after they departed to the Glacial Expanse. If she placed a special order for an extra weighted blanket or two after returning to Siltwind, that was nobody’s business. Though she wondered if the same thing would happen if she fell asleep while attuned to ice magic, and buried herself in snow… Probably best not to test that one, though.
Unfortunately, Maeryn hadn’t made much progress on the journey to attuning to water. Water magic had the insidious requirement of having a solid idea of one’s core identity. Knowing what about oneself was immutable, and what could change depending on circumstance. She was slowly building that foundation of identity. Or painting a mental self-portrait. Whatever metaphor her mind decided on that day. The point was, she had a list of traits she’d decided on as core to who she was.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Stubborn. Disciplined. Confident. Perceptive. Adaptable. Friend. Loyal. Spiteful. Repentant. Pragmatic. Resilient. She’d added the last after careful internal debate in the last couple of weeks, trying to imagine what she’d call anyone else who went through what she’d been through and kept going. Maeryn didn’t like it. It felt like self-praise. But there really wasn’t a better word for rolling with the punches reality kept giving her.
But she was starting to run out of adjectives. Maybe it was time to look beyond traits—to what she’d actually done.
Her nation called her the Heroine of Geova, for leading a team to create holy magic. The dragonkin likewise called her the Guiding Flame for similar reasons. Did she take pride in being a leader? Not really. That was just a role she was good at. Being a Heroine? No way. That was way too grandiose. But the actual accomplishment? Being part of the team that created something new, something meaningful, something that saved lives? She was definitely proud of that.
Was there a title for that, something that she could be comfortable with owning? Nothing she could think of at the moment, but then again, she didn’t really need one. It wasn’t like she was going to put it on a sign and hang it over her head. The idea was enough to be added to the materials of her identity.
Huh. Now that she actually thought about it, she really did value accomplishments over titles or power. Maeryn hadn’t realized that she’d internalized that kind of mindset at some point. Where what someone did with power mattered more than actually having it. Maybe that was why she had such a complicated relationship with authority.
Judging from the footsteps nearby, though, she’d have to meditate on that later. Maeryn rose from her meditative position on the floor in her room, just in time for Dan to immediately walk through the open door.
He instantly stopped and gave her a quick once-over, obviously looking for any sign that she hadn’t been taking care of herself. Maeryn almost rolled her eyes at his overprotectiveness, but let it go with a tiny huff. Of course he was going to worry, considering how horrified he’d been at her losing fire magic.
“Hey Maeryn. How’re you holding up?”
“I’m fine, Dan. Really,” she insisted at his skeptical look. “I finished attuning to earth while you were gone. It helps.”
Dan’s body released its tension slowly, but to Maeryn’s irritation it only made room for shame. “Right. Earth is grounding. Leaves you feeling more stable. Of course. I should have taught you that before I left. Sorry.”
“Stop it,” she snapped. “No, I haven’t recovered my fire magic, and I don’t expect to anytime soon. But that doesn’t make me an invalid. I’m not emotionally crippled, just existentially tired. I’m still perfectly capable, and you know damn well that I’m stubborn enough to keep fighting until I get what I want. So stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”
The alchemist grimaced. “I know, I know,” he placated. “It’s just… look. There are some real horror stories about people in my line of work who lose their fire. It can get bad. Really bad. Sometimes they just… spiral. They get worse and worse without saying anything. They hide how bad it is, and when it gets too much…” He couldn’t finish, but Maeryn didn’t need him to.
Dan took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t deal with that. I just can’t. Not with you. So I’m sorry if I come off overbearing, but I just… I gotta know that you’re coping. Not just pretending.”
Maeryn sighed, her frustration ebbing. She couldn’t stay mad at him, not with that context. She wouldn’t have been any better if the situation was reversed, after all. Abyss, she even had proof of that. She’d broken down his door once to take care of him while he was ill.
“I get it,” she said simply. “But listen. I know it does no one any good for me to hide where I’m at. If I need help, I need help. Believe me when I tell you that Agatha literally beats the pride out of people if they start letting it get in the way of reality. I promise, I will tell you if I start slipping. So relax a little, okay? I’m dealing.”
Dan gave her a wobbly kind of half-smile, but he nodded. “Any luck attuning to water? It really will help a lot.”
Maeryn shook her head. “Not yet. Still building up to it.”
“Okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“You could tell me about these portable shelters you and the Airspire researchers worked out?” she suggested.
Dan’s eyes lit up, and Maeryn silently congratulated herself on breaking him out of his funk as he quickly led her to the back of Stonewing—the area she’d previously dubbed the Commune. All the beds belonging to the Solarists were still there, but empty; they were out clearing the Mist across the northern end of the continent, after all. But there was a new rack in the back with four long, bulky sacks about two-thirds Maeryn’s size. Dan pulled one of them out and tugged at the rope keeping it shut, revealing…
“Dan. That’s just a tent.”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Dan. Explain,” Maeryn growled.
He shrugged. “Feel the fabric. Try to channel some ice magic into it, and you’ll see why this is more than just a tent.”
She rolled her eyes, but reached out and touched the material. It was oddly smooth on the outside, and… fuzzy, on the inside. Thicker than it looked, too. Maeryn frowned. It only took a few seconds of focus on the relevant concepts—Cold, Dark, Preservation, Unification, a Maeryn who stepped back from emotion and focused on cold logic—for her to switch to ice magic and start channeling a Chilling Touch spell.
To her startlement, the tent fabric repelled the ice entirely, the frost fizzing away into nothing on contact, even after she held the spell against it for more than a minute. She canceled the spell and touched the smooth cloth a moment later, and it was maybe a degree or two cooler, but nowhere near as cold as it should have been. “What in the abyss?”
Dan grinned proudly. “Ice Resistance, courtesy of yours truly. With a specific focus on the Cold concept.” He gestured at the fuzzy material. “Having the inside lined with this helps trap the heat, too. I took the liberty of getting us some clothes with the same stuff. Coats with hoods, gloves, snow pants, thick boots, woolly socks.”
He gestured to a large closet that Maeryn hadn’t noticed off to the side. “Got enough for everyone.”
She smiled at him, much more impressed now that she understood the scope of his work. “Great work. Good job, Dan.”
There was a sudden bang of metal on metal coming from the cargo bay, and the two of them instinctively looked in that direction in alarm. “I’m okay!” Frankie’s voice called out. “Just loading up our shiny new transportation!”
Maeryn and Dan sighed in relieved unison. “Think we should check it out?” she offered.
“Might as well. Frankie’ll drag us both back there in a few minutes anyway if we don’t,” the alchemist observed wryly.
They ducked through the open doorway into the cargo bay and looked around. Over in the corner was Master Graves’ old personal one-man short-range airship. Next to it sat the workbenches and smithing tools that Maeryn had used to craft leather leg armor for herself, Terrance and Ernesto. Further down was Frankie’s workspace, where she kept pipes of various sizes and shapes, and a neatly-kept array of every engineering tool Maeryn could imagine.
And over there, next to Frankie and Peter, were four new additions to the cargo bay. “Hey Rin!” Frankie greeted cheerfully before Maeryn could get more than a glance at them. “Come on, come on, I wanna show you what we’ve got!”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said, amused, walking over. “Whatcha got?”
“Steam-Powered All-Terrain Transport. SPATT for short.”
“She picked the name on purpose,” Peter stage-whispered. “I think she was just amused by the idea of having a spat with how slow walking is.”
It took more effort than Maeryn wanted to admit not to burst out laughing.
“So I like going fast! Sue me!” Frankie stuck her tongue out at her boyfriend, who just grinned at her. “Besides, it’s good branding! Ugh. Anyway, have a look.”
She walked around the vehicle, gesturing at it. “Three wheels for stability, custom treads for maximum traction on smooth surfaces. I would’ve gone with just two wheels, to reduce weight and get more speed out of it, but considering we’re going to the icy rear end of the world, I had to make some compromises.”
Frankie tapped the smooth, padded area where she was obviously meant to sit. “Go on, hop up, see how it feels.”
Maeryn did as she was told, straddling the machine. It was actually pretty comfortable, though she had the feeling she’d get a bit sore if she kept it up for more than an hour or two. The correct placement of her hands and feet was pretty intuitive from there, considering the handlebars.
“I thought about putting the speed controls in the handlebars,” the engineer continued, “but considering you might need to use magic or something, I didn’t want you to have to slow down. So the control’s with your feet. You feel the give there? The more you push, the faster you’ll go. Should be pretty intuitive after a bit of practice.”
“This is great, Frankie, but how did you solve the whole ‘steam in the cold’ issue?” Maeryn asked, impressed. “Won’t it just freeze once we get there?”
“You ever hear of a vacuum?” Frankie asked smugly. “Basically a space with absolutely nothing in it. Not even air. Which, importantly, means the cold has nothing to transmit through. So I wrapped the important pipes in vacuum-sealed insulation inside outer pipes. Though I tell you, that was expensive to make. We don’t have a good way to standardize making vacuum-sealed stuff. Had to enlist an alchemist specializing in wind magic to make it happen.”
She scratched her head. “Of course, then we had to deal with overheating. But the alchemists in Greenstone were able to fine-tweak a Fire Resistance enchantment to only bother working if the temperature reached a certain point.”
The manic engineer frowned at the SPATT. “Unfortunately, it’s a lot heavier than I’d like. Which limits the maximum speed to about thirty to thirty-five kilometers per hour. Still a lot faster than walking, but…” She shook her head, clearly unsatisfied. “The next version’ll be better.”
“I’m sure. But in the meantime, this is amazing.” Maeryn carefully got down from the SPATT and gave her friend a brief hug, which was instantly returned.
“Anyway, yeah,” Frankie continued, sounding a bit happier. “We’ve got four SPATTs. Each can fit two riders, three if you don’t mind cuddling.”
A new voice interjected then, sounding awfully amused. “And I bet you and Peter tested that out thoroughly.”
Frankie whirled, a flush staining her face. “Terrance!” she protested.
The rogue, who must’ve just arrived, just smirked at her. “What? All I’m saying is that you and Peter test your stuff pretty thoroughly. I’m sure you double-checked how comfortable it is to sit together on one of those.”
Frankie narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but couldn’t find the justification for anything else. “I’m watching you.”
“Oh, I know.” Terrance’s gaze switched over to Maeryn. “Hey. How’re you holding up?”
“Doing just fine,” she assured him. “Did you find the Nightingale Library?”
“Afraid not. It’s just not up in Zephyr. I’ve combed every inch of that place.” The last Nightshade heir shrugged helplessly. “I know we were hoping it’d have a clue on how Erina’s veiled herself from Wind Whispers, and how to bypass it. Or even how to scry for individuals. But no, nothing.”
Maeryn grimaced, trying to be gentle about her next question. “Did you try having one of the Solarists on Zephyr summon your parents’ ghosts?” she asked as tactfully as she could. “Surely they’d know where it is.”
“That’s just it.” Terrance’s expression turned utterly baffled, and a little sad. “I did try. But my parents refused to show up.”
Maeryn blinked, stunned by the simple words. “They refused?” she repeated.
“Yeah. I thought, even if they didn’t want to answer secret Nightingale stuff, they’d still want to see me, at least.” He looked down, visibly slumping. “I don’t understand.”
“Oh, Terrance…” She pulled him into a tight, prolonged hug, which he gratefully returned. “I’m sure there’s some reason for it. Maybe they have their own fears about necromancy, like you did before. Like, being compelled to tell secrets to those outside the bloodline or something. If you want, we can work on it together, alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks, Maeryn.”
She stepped back and looked at the assembled team. Everyone was there—even Veronica and Ernesto, having a quiet conversation near the doorway. The only one missing was Ooble, out with the dragonkin.
Time to fix that. “Frankie, Peter, Dan, make sure we have enough supplies for an extended trip. Everyone else, if you’ve got anything you need done before we go, now’s the time to do it. We leave tomorrow morning. We’re going to go pick up Ooble, and then head to the Glacial Expanse.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Mistrusted, is up for preorder here:
does mean that I'll be taking down the relevant chapters from Royal Road on the same day. But by then you'll have plenty of book 4 present to tide you over. Enjoy!
