The Naked Truth - Part 2

“Sometimes I wonder why your generation built Bricktown in the first place. I mean, what was the sales pitch to have a whole sector of this huge city made into low-quality, mass residences? Was it an afterthought? Was there any long-term plan to deal with the population boom that your parents started and your generation made even worse? Don’t tell me it was just a temporary solution until the border could be expanded, because the Drake has never kept that empty promise.”

I take a breath to get back on topic, “I’ve slept on the streets and in lock-up. I’ve been sentenced to “community service” sweatshops making new toys or meds that I’d never be able to afford. At least that system worked as advertised. I learned lots of important skills, and not just the tools. I learned how to network, smuggle, make fake IDs, run a con, all kinds of useful things. So now, when someone on the street is looking for something, they ask around and they find me. I’m pretty affordable these days. I’m not all about the Scales either, I can work in favors, information, barter, that kind of thing.”

Sylvia’s head snaps up as if she’d been nodding off. She brings the gun back in line, and shakes it at me, “Who is it? Who sent you? Is one of the board members trying to kill me before I take his position?”

Artwork by Leon Tukker.

“Nobody sent me,” I reply calmly. “This job is for me, and every other kid that had to go through what I did. The ones that were ignored and starved until they formed gangs. Gangs that pooled resources to survive, mainly by stealing from others. Every person they killed in order to get what they needed to survive left blood on your hands. Your paper-pushing helped build Bricktown. You ended up owning a lot of real estate at the end of it. Made yourself a landlady of several blocks, a regular slumlady. Then you started adjusting the numbers, ignoring the effect on people’s lives.

“I recently met some folks who were put in the line of fire because of you. They found evidence of your rent manipulation. They discovered proof of you paying gangs to lean on certain blocks even harder, to encourage complaining tenants to move out. Sometimes feet first. We’ve tracked some of the survivors to other blocks, or found them crammed in with their relatives. We lost track of several people when they went to Undertown.”

Sylvia’s eyes are huge, as she realizes what I’m saying. She doesn’t deny it, but her reaction confesses everything. She looks exhausted, and can’t stand up anymore. She slumps into one of her expensive, comfortable chairs, the gun slips out of her numb hands. Regret? More likely that DerMed patch I slipped onto her back finally kicked in. I can’t pronounce the name of the drug, but it doesn’t mix well with alcohol. She’ll be dead soon, and a tox report won’t show a thing.

I walk over to the chair, bending over so our faces are inches apart. I can hear her breathing starting to wheeze. “We’re not letting you get away with this. So, to answer your original question, I’m looking for your Reclamations, Inc. post-mortem contract. Sorry, you’d call it a “will and testament.” We can’t have your blood money passed along to someone of your choice. We’ll make sure it gets somewhere it’s needed more, like the halfway homes hosting the people you forced onto the streets.”

I reach around behind her, carefully removing the DerMed patch. I’m going to have a lot of cleaning up to do, but I was prepared for that too. Then I find her hidden hard drive, use her biometrics to unlock it, then some creative accounting.

First things first, get my pants back on.

The Naked Truth - Part 1

Artwork by Felipe Hahas.

As the last tumbler of the safe falls into place, the lights of the expensive apartment turn on. Behind me, I hear the soft hum of a coilgun spinning up. I freeze in place while my eyes adjust.

“What do you think you’re doing?!? Get away from there!” Her voice is surprisingly calm, but the anger is there. Betrayal does that.

The view is right out of one of those daytime dramas that Essential Enterprises is always broadcasting. All that’s missing is a musical sting and a sudden zoom-in to her face. Ms. Sylvia Hayes, the VP of Brick Lane Realty, a subsidiary of Materials Management Corporation, is standing in the doorway to her bedroom where we’d just spent the past few hours together. The flashing lights from the buildings across the street splash her with red and blue lights. Her silver hair’s a mess, her icy blue skin shines.

In one hand she’s holding the bedsheet wrapped around her body, more from sudden modesty than a need for warmth. 

Her other hand is pointing a slim, shiny pistol at me with a slight tremble.

I leave my tools in the lock and move away from the hidden safe, turning slowly toward her. I start to step forward with a smile on my face, “Sylvia, I know this looks bad, but…”

Sylvia pulls the trigger and there’s a quiet compression of air before my shoulder is shoved back against the wall by her shot. I look down at my bare chest and the bruise is already beginning to form. Baton rounds, of course. She’s too proper to have illegal ammo. Still, I’m pretty sure that pistol was a gift, and this is the first time it’s been fired.

“I don’t want to hear about what it looks like, Cody! Is that even your real name?”

“Yes…”

“Shut up!” She’s getting louder now. I barely hear the quick recharge of the gun. “I can’t believe I trusted you! Slept with you! Now I find you trying to steal from me!” She inhales with a shudder, refusing to cry. “I knew it. No one who looks like you would ever actually be interested in me. It’s only about what I have.”

I stay against the wall, letting her process and fill the air with words instead of more rounds. She does have a point. She’s almost 30 years older than me. Our meeting at Sunset Towers was not a mistake. I planned the whole thing after my hacker, Harper, cracked her itinerary. The wait staff got me around security. My suit and fake ID got me through the party and into her line of sight. After that, the seduction was easy. I made it a little more challenging by letting her think it was her idea. Best way to get back to her place.

The hovercar ride here was the tricky part even though it was short. I had to keep her interested but not ask deep questions. She needed to stay excited about what we were going to do when we arrived, not jump me during the ride.

My mind races through my contingencies, but my physical options are limited. Even if I could make it to the door without taking another shot in the back, this isn’t a district where someone gets to run around naked without someone calling security. Worse, their response time in the Gold Ring is fast. Materials Management Corporation security may not be the best trained, but they had the best gear and vehicles. They’d run me down in no time. They might not bother with non-lethal ammo either. At least a streaker isn’t worth calling the Dragoons about.

I turn the tables on her. “Okay, so what do you want?”

She stops short, as if she’s never heard the question before, “I… I want the truth. I want to know who you are, and why you did this to me.”

“That’s funny, that’s what I’m here for too.” She looks confused, but I don’t give her a chance to speak. “You were born when the city was still being built,” it’s a statement, not a question. I did my research. “As part of the Renovation Generation, you never really had to look for work, there was something for everyone to do. You were making a new city from the ground up while learning how the new world worked with magic in the mix. In your case, you even got altered by the Tempest at the genetic level, permanently changing your body. Sure, you worked hard, but you also had a path that led you to this,” I gesture around at the elegant, expensive room. “After the corporate war settled down, you found yourself in the real estate branch of MMC.”

Then I gesture down at myself, “Not all of us were so lucky. Magic skipped over me entirely. No genetic changes, no gifts for casting. I’ve never held a job important enough to get any bionics, cyberware, or other augmentations. I’m just me, and I was born in the depths of Bricktown. My birth parents put me into the system, and I got traded around as a tax dodge for a while. I tried to avoid gang violence, stay independent. Along the way, I started earning money however I could...” I trail off to let Sylvia’s imagination fill in the gaps. Her eyes stay hard, but I notice her jaw shift uncomfortably. Her face is now a paler shade of blue.

Medical Magic - Part 3

Click here to start at the beginning

“Does that mean you can help my dad?” Luis asked with hope in his voice. He looked up at Skylar with big, pleading eyes.

Skylar blinked as the question snapped her back to the present, her training faltering for just a second, “I could… but your mom has to give me permission first.”

“That’s right!” Mrs. Mendez glared down at the two of them. “It’s my call, and I’m not consenting to you using your unreliable magic on Michael. He may have lied about his job, but it was a spellslinger that brought down the bridge. Magic brought nothing but pain to this world.”

Skylar straightened up, all business again, “Mrs. Mendez, there are many people who feel that way. However, in this situation, it would save you a lot of money to allow me to restore Michael. In addition to the reduced material cost, the recovery time is much faster, which means less time paying for inpatient care.”

Mrs. Mendez crossed her arms, “No. Magic. I’d rather he be left untreated and manage things myself than allow him to be altered by you.”

Skylar let out a slow breath through her nose. It crystallized in the air, giving her a draconic aspect. “You’ve made your decision then?”

Mrs. Mendez faltered, glancing back to her palmtop, “Not just yet. I’m waiting for the bank to transfer some funds. I think we can afford at least some bionics or grafts. The Network is lagging with all the emergency services. Or maybe Michael didn’t tell me about paying our service bill. Is there somewhere I can find a Netdrop to plug into?”

Skylar pointed over to a crowded kiosk in the corner of the waiting room. It was clearly marked ‘Network Access’ with the Geoponics Biotechnology corporate logo right above the price list. Mrs. Mendez stormed over, looking like she was ready to toss people out of her way.

Luis watched her go, but stayed there with Skylar. “She lost her parents last year when the Tempest got real bad. They worked in Mudslide, near the land. I don’t wanna lose my dad, and I don’t care if it takes magic to do it.”

Skylar bent down again to look Luis straight in the eyes. “I understand. But even that would take a lot of money. I can’t just do it because I want to. I would get fired, and they’d never let me help anyone else. Anywhere. Ever again. If I did, they could throw me in jail for practicing without a license.”

The boy looked over at his mother, arguing with someone at the kiosk. He looked down in thought. “You said the walls were keeping out the noise. The potential?” he asked.

“Uncontrolled potential, that’s right. The walls reduce it a lot,” Skylar replied.

He looked up, looking her in the eyes for the first time, “How do we know it’s not reducing ours too?”

Skylar’s mouth opened, then closed. As she stood up, her AR informed her that the interaction limit had expired. She looked over her shoulder to the front desk, and the cameras watching her. The face of her old manager flashed before her eyes again, reminding her of the last time she felt this powerless. She may have sacrificed everything to escape him, but she made sure he couldn’t do it to anyone else.

Skylar stormed out of the waiting room and headed back to the ER, pulling her medical mask back on as she went. After slamming the doors open, she brought her masque to her face, magically attaching to her aura. Unconsciously, Skylar began to hunch as she walked with determination through the hospital. The rest of the staff stopped and stared at the bear-faced woman stalk through the crowd. Even the armored Samaritans gave her the right of way.

Artwork by Digital Storm.

When she arrived at Michael Mendez’s room she latched the door behind her. As she approached the bed, she looked up into another camera with the Geoponics Biotechnology logo staring back at her. She took out her palmtop computer and displayed it for the camera. For the second time in her young life, Skylar ruined her career.

“I quit!”

Skylar threw the computer at the camera, breaking shattering the computer. She turned to Michael and laid her hands upon his bandaged head, and her hands began to glow a warm, yellow light.

“Once upon a time…”

Medical Magic - Part 2

Click here for part 1

Skylar’s AR display reminded her that their time allowance was slipping away. Mrs. Mendez needed to make a decision soon, but she was busy researching options on her own palmtop computer. She was obviously still angry. She was muttering under her breath and jabbing the screen with her stony fingers. She was close to breaking the tiny computer.

Skylar glanced nervously at the receptionist desk, framed with mini-cameras keeping track of their engagement. 

Skylar felt a tug on her hand, and turned around. She found the little boy, Luis, petting the synthetic fur of her magical masque in Skylar’s hand. It looked like the face of a brown bear from the forehead to cheekbones, including a protruding black nose. Skylar bent down and offered it to him, “Have you not seen one of these before?”

Luis kept looking at the bear masque, “Yeah, but yours is fuzzy. It reminds me of my stuffy, Buttons. He’s a bear too. The other masques I’ve seen had shapes, colors, or pictures on them.”

Skylar gave a weak smile. “I have some of those too,” she said. “I wear this one when I work because of kids like you.”

“It lets you do magic, right?”

Skylar nodded.

“How?”

Skylar rocked back a little at the rudimentary question that she now had to break down into something he could understand.

Skylar blew out a cloud of frost before starting to explain. “There are lots of theories about that, and the experts are still trying to figure out the whole thing. But I’ll tell you my favorite way to look at it, okay?” Luis nodded immediately, his eyes still shining from the tears from a minute ago.

“Imagine you’re in a huge room, filled with people. They’re all talking at once, so it’s really noisy, right? That’s the wild magic outside the walls, constant uncontrolled potential. Anything could happen, such as the river suddenly catching on fire. The walls reduce the volume of the noise, but everyone is still talking.” Skylar used her slender blue hands to make little mouths chatter at each other.

“Now, Shards, they use crystals to tune out the noise and amplify a particular sound. When that sound becomes loud and clear, it causes the effect the Shard wants. They have to be very fast and precise to pull this off. Lots of folks can learn to do this, which is why most of the magical things you find in stores were made by them. On the other hand, Whispers don’t try to be louder than anyone else, they blend in with the noise, listening to certain voices. Their magic only affects them, but that makes them less of a risk to everyone else.”

Luis looked down at the mention of the dangers of practicing magic in the city. He looked like he was about to cry again.

Artwork by Saquizeta.

Skylar changed the topic, “Masques, like me, we tell stories. These stories make the other voices stop talking and listen, and that focus makes the magic happen. These stories don’t have to be old, but they have old truths in them. These iconic truths are easiest to understand as characters in a story that share certain aspects. I follow the Path of the Guardian, so I tell stories about protecting people, making people feel better when they’re hurt, and keeping their homes safe. Wearing the masque makes us a symbol of characters and themes, which goes beyond language and into something deeper. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Luis said. He touched his collar with one little hand. A thin chain was tucked underneath his shirt, some kind of religious symbol just out of sight. People often confused the two, Skylar thought, they didn’t realize religions are a popular subset of the stories that could be used. It’s the elements of the story that give it iconic power. The actions done, the results achieved, the lessons learned. A story about a saint healing the sick works just as well as a wise woman or kind doctor doing the same.

“Does that mean you can help my dad?” he said with hope in his voice.

CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE

Medical Magic - Part 1

Artwork by Tithi Luadthong.

“Code Blue! Code Blue! Clear the way!” 

Skylar watched another victim of the highway collapse head into the emergency wing. The Samaritan EMS had been bringing them in for the past hour since the hospital closest to the scene hit capacity. She flattened herself against the wall to make way for the trauma team with heavy rifles and body armor pushing a stretcher. Before she worked here, she only saw the Samaritans in action on the street: weapons out, securing the scene, and getting the patient into their armored hovercraft ambulance.

The person on the stretcher wasn’t her responsibility right now. Skylar’s patient was already in the ER, barely alive thanks to her magical treatment. Now she had to deal with the worst part of her job. As she entered the waiting room, she heard a chime from her company issued palmtop computer. The AR display in her contact lenses showed a timer tracking her interaction time in the waiting room. If she stayed too long, it would get reported to the corporation as unpaid socialization time.

On the other side of the pastel waiting room, Skylar saw the person her computer displayed as the next of kin for her patient. As Skylar approached, she removed her magical focus, a brown fur masque from the top of her face. Then she lowered a surgical mask, revealing her blue face, sharp cheekbones, and aquamarine eyes. Combined with her short white hair, Skylar was a striking example of the ice-touched Glacier species.

“Mrs. Mendez, we need to talk.”

Mrs. Mendez stood up from her chair, with a worried look on her stone face. Her disheveled, dark hair was pouring out over a pair of rock-like horns that framed her ears. Like many other earth-touched Crags, her clothes were frayed where her skin had cut through the cloth. The little boy next to her stood up and clutched her hand with both of his. He was still in his pajamas. Skylar guessed he was around ten, too young to discover if the wild magic affected his genetics. Both of them looked worried and exhausted.

“What’s happened to Michael?” Mrs. Mendez demanded. “They wouldn’t tell me anything except that he’d been in an accident. The net reported about the highway, some rogue mage blew up a bridge. I don’t understand why we allow any magic inside the city in the first place. It can’t be used or controlled, only stopped.” She let the words hang between them for a moment, then she realizes something. “But Michael doesn’t drive so… he must have been...”

Skylar tried not to wince at the generalized accusation and ignored the glare of Mrs. Mendez. Skylar started speaking by rote, choosing her words carefully. “That’s right. He was under the bridge when it collapsed. As I’m sure you know, Ashen like him are particularly prone to broken bones. The debris crushed his entire right side. The arm, leg, lung, some ribs, and part of his skull are all fractured or broken. We’ve managed to stabilize him, but he’s still unconscious.”

Mrs. Mendez gasped in surprise that didn’t reach her eyes. “Daddy! No!” the little boy cried, hugging his mother’s leg as tears burst from his eyes.

Mrs. Mendez crouched down to hug her little boy, her voice becoming several shades softer. “Now Luis, baby. It sounds scary, but Daddy is gonna get all fixed up by the doctors. He’ll be home soon, and he’ll have all kinds of new shiny parts. Just like Uncle Lorenzo, okay?” Little Luis took a few steadying breaths before nodding and wiping his eyes.

Mrs. Mendez stood back up to address Skylar, “That sounds utterly horrible,” she said, “but if he’s still alive, he can be fixed with augmentations. We have health insurance from his night job, and…”

Skylar put up an icy blue hand to interrupt, “That’s why I’m here talking to you, Mrs. Mendez. It seems that your insurance expired weeks ago when Michael lost his job at Reclamations, Inc. You’re right--if it were active, your plan may have allowed us to replace the damaged areas with cybernetics, or restore him with magic. Without insurance, we don’t have his prior consent -- or a method of payment -- so we need you to decide for him.”

Mrs. Mendez’s face flashed from confusion, to fear, to anger, “HE WHAT!!??!!” When she stomped her foot, the chairs shook. “Weeks ago!!! If he didn’t have a job, what was he doing every night?!?” Skylar took a half-step back, unable to answer. Mrs. Mendez clenched her teeth, “Without that insurance, we’ll never be able to afford so much work.”
Skylar sighed as she read the corporate script, “Geoponics Biotechnology has work programs in place to allow you to pay your bills over time...”

“You mean slavery!” She said it loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the waiting room.

Skylar looked away, unable to argue for the detestable corporate policies. The poor woman didn’t have many options, all the hospitals belonged to Geo Bio. This all reminded Skylar of her short-lived music career. Of what her manager tried to get her to do out of fear of losing her contract. She ended up blacklisted by a megacorp and couldn’t sing for a living anymore. So she started a new one in nursing, and she was trying to keep her head down this time.

CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE

A First Rodeo - Part 3

CLICK HERE TO START AT THE BEGINNING

Artwork by Chokchai Poomichaiya

Sawyer grins broadly, rolls their neck, and tells Ash, “Time to earn our pay.”

As Sawyer rises to their feet, claws extend from their hands, and with a high-pitched screech, they launch towards the mass of black, worm-like creatures roiling through the opening of the cave.

Ash’s mind slips to a clinical observation state, a self-preservation tactic he learned years ago. As if outside his own body, he observes the hatchlings slithering forward swiftly. The creatures have a shiny black articulated carapace with hundreds of little legs, each ending with a grasping claw. The eyeless head separates with a triparted jaw, with another snapping mouth and neck within, extending its reach three feet.

Sawyer falls upon the creatures, moving to match their speed. Their screeching battle cry seems to bother the draklings ears. Sawyer’s skills and magic directly counteract the strengths of the draklings. They are the front line, holding back several of the hatchlings alone.

The twins use catch poles, long poles with looped cords on the end, to capture creatures while keeping them from swarming Sawyer. Ash takes the middle position, bashing any hatchlings that get past Sawyer before they can attack the twins.

Sawyer’s voice rings out over the din of alarms and chittering. “Two incoming,” Sawyer yells. “Remember, we need one wriggling!”

The world around seems to slow as Ash’s reflexes speed up. He hefts his trusty baseball bat. The crystals set into the bottom of the bat glow faintly with Ash’s magic. Knowing instinctively that the twins can handle one, he twists to let the first hatchling by, then spins to gain momentum and bring the bat down hard, crushing the head of the second hatchling.

Before he recovers properly, a third hatchling slams into his blind side, sending him out of position. He hits the ground hard but manages to avoid being stunned. However, he loses his calm battle mind, raw panic starts to grip him. Tapping into his attuned crystals for assistance, he accelerates his movements and starts to bludgeon the rogue hatchling over and over. Momentarily deafened by the blood rushing in his ears, he loses track of the battle until Sawyer’s calming voice cuts through.

“Easy kid. You got it,” Sawyer croons like speaking to a wild animal. Coming to his senses, Ash looks up and around. He noticed Sawyer’s claws dripping with ichor, and half a dozen of the hatchlings lay at their feet. Several scratches ooze on Sawyer's face. As Ash studies the veteran, the wounds begin to close slowly.

Ash grins sheepishly as his crystals slowly dim.

“We got one!” Travis shouts. He and Teresa both hold onto a pole with the squirming, wriggling drakling in the loop at the end. Sawyer strides over and picks it up, shoving it roughly into a sack.

Ash watches with trepidation. “Why do we need demicats anyway?”

Sawyer smirks. “You know what a radrat is, right?” Teresa and Travis start packing up their gear silently, letting Sawyer take lead on the explanations.

Ash nods, “Sure… they sneak in through the sewers and spread plague and radiation disease through the city. The news said they’re working on a cure.”

Sawyer scoffs, “Cure… Sure… for those with connections. It’s another way for those corps to put money in their pockets.” Sawyer pauses to make their disdain for the corps completely clear. “That’s not what we’re doing. We want to build a healthy demicat population in Undertown.” Sawyer shakes the sack a little and the creature inside squirms. They grin maliciously. “Demicats hunt extremely dangerous creatures, including radrats. The Wild Storm gave them resistance to the plague and radiation, and heightened senses. They are kind of amazing creatures really.” Their voice takes on a fond tone as they describe their ultimate prey. “I’d probably own a dozen if they were tamable.”

Travis snickers, “You’d definitely be an old cat hoarder.”

Sawyer playfully smacks Travis off the back of the head.

“Good work, kids. Now let's go get us some demicats.”

With that, the four hunters move deeper into the tunnels in search of their elusive prey.

A First Rodeo - Part 2

CLICK HERE FOR PART 1

Lazily, Sawyer leans back putting their feet up on a nearby rock.

Ash’s serious face does not share Sawyer’s light-hearted attitude. “This is a big deal, Sawyer. How can you be so cavalier about all...” He gestures around. “All this?”

The humor drains from Sawyer’s golden eyes. The vertical pupil begins to widen slightly as they become adjusted to the dim light in the cave. “Life is hard, kid. You can’t take anything too seriously.” Sawyer sighs and rubs their stubble-dappled chin. “Look… Life sucks pretty much everywhere. I used to work in Mudslide.” Sawyer holds up a hand to stall Ash’s question. “Yes, Mudslide, sure it’s not the official name. To us real people, it's just Mudslide.

“They’ve got huge factories for building all sorts of technology with assembly lines to create all those huge buildings, vehicles, and other devices you see in the city. They also grow tons of food, make textiles, and so on. Which is great and all… but it's all done on the backs of grunts. Ten-hour days. Seven days a week. In dangerous conditions. You know the noise? It's so loud that most folks go deaf in a year. Some people never hear their kids' voices.

“You would think with all this important work and terrible conditions, that they were compensated?” Sawyer spits on the ground. “Hah! Corps are what they are… money-grubbing ratfinks who only serve themselves and their families. I was working a security detail once, and I found something on the other side of the supply yard unnaturally fascinating as a dozen teenagers ripped off an entire palette of construction materials. I hope they sold those goods and made sure their families could eat for a month. Needless to say, I lost that job. I’m not really great with authority figures.” Sawyer sighs, releasing some of their recalled tension.

“A guy got loud one day and told us we should stand up for ourselves. Surprisingly enough people listened, we had a little riot of sorts. A couple hundred of us stood up from our jobs and were met by a line of armed soldiers. They had guns, we had fists.” Sawyer thrusts a balled-up fist into the palm of their other hand, before their shoulders drop a little. “Needless to say, we didn’t last long. That guy was arrested.”

Artwork by Pavel Chagochkin

Ash blinks and leans towards Sawyer a fraction of an inch, enraptured by the story. He barely notices as Travis and Teresa return from laying their traps. The twins rest back to back and seem to doze quietly in a rare moment of respite.

“The next day, he gave a speech, imploring us to stop resisting and get back to work,” says Sawyer, their voice taking a mocking tone before returning to normal. “So most folks did. I had trouble with it though, so I lost that job too. I heard shortly after that he never returned to the assembly line, but I noticed his kid was being transported to the inner city, dressed in a clean school uniform. Someone made him a deal he couldn’t refuse.” Sawyer’s shoulders shrug slightly with a nonchalance that belies the grave implications of his story. “Oh, I don’t blame him. If I had family, I’d probably do the same.” Sawyer pauses, noticing the seriousness in the young faces around them, then smirks slyly and injects a little humor to lighten the mood. “Not that I’d ever weaken myself with family.”

Travis rolls his eyes, as Teresa whispers, “Sure, Sawyer. Sure you wouldn’t want to weaken yourself...”

Whatever else Teresa had to say is lost in a large racket as one of the traps goes off. The twins move from an apparent doze to wide awake on their feet with weapons in hand.

CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE

A First Rodeo - Part 1

“This is your first rodeo.”

It wasn’t a question. Sawyer speaks quietly to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Just a few moments ago, the group had been running for their lives. A pack of gigantic, barrel-chested creatures with a mask of dark fur across the eyes was hunting the group. They had caught the scent of the team shortly after slipping through the dragon’s barrier. New to the Wilds, Ash had not recognized the animals’ long snouts and the mask of dark fur across their eyes, and that lack of knowledge added to his fear. Sawyer’s relaxed attitude acted as a sharp contrast to Ash’s panic.

Sawyer leads Ash and the others into a cave that barely fits four grown adults. The mischievous grin that crosses their scruffy face belies the very real danger that surrounds them. Sawyer is a Wyldling, a unique being that occurs when the wild magic melds animal and human. Their lean face is full of dangerous angles. Their form is lithe and athletic.

“Those are coybears.” Sawyer gestures with one hand towards the exit. Their hand is remarkable; the fingernails are long, black, and pointed. Blood drips from one of them, probably from swiping them across the mask of one of the pursuing creatures. “At least that’s what I call ‘em. They’re what happens when wild magic settles in on a canine and a bear.”

Ash brushes a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe away the grime of the panicked run. He nods, still a bit breathless. “First time… yeah…”

Sawyer nods. “We’re safe, for now. Take a few minutes… catch your breath.”

Ash settles against the rough rock and tries to control his breathing. He pauses for a moment to inspect a gash in the back of his calf.

“Shit,” Ash murmurs barely above a whisper. On instinct, he puts his hands on either side of the wound to magically illuminate the wound. Before the crystal rings on his fingers could begin to glow, Sawyer roughly smacks his hands away and thrusts a first aid kit at him.

“Stop squirming, kid. We need to wrap this up before your blood attracts more critters,” Sawyer snorts, as they direct a flashlight on the back of Ash’s leg. “And for chaos's sake, don’t use magic. That only attracts every blasted magic-eating creature outside the six cities.”

Ash grumbles but pulls up his pant leg to wrap his calf with the medical gauze. He glances over towards the cave mouth, where a pair of young humans, Travis and Teresa, prepare what looks like a trap and camouflage netting to cover the cave mouth. Ash’s eyes follow the twins as they do their work.

“They don’t use magic, do they?” he asks as an aside to Sawyer.

Sawyer controls a burst of laughter. “Nah…” They raise their voice just slightly. “Oie, Travis, come ‘ere.” Travis moves over towards Sawyer. With a sudden movement, the predator-touched lashes out towards Travis with a hand glowing with electrical power. As Sawyer’s lightly furred talons close around Travis’ arm, he flinches and swears under his breath. However, no harm comes to the young man.

Travis punches Sawyer. “Stars, Sawyer! I hate it when you do that!” From across the cave, Teresa’s eyes shoot daggers at Sawyer.

Sawyer’s light laughter belies the seriousness of the situation. “The Terrible Twins are Nulls,” they explain. “They suck the magic out of a place. With them around, I can ride under the radar and get what I need done without attracting tunnelers, storm-eaters, coybears, and other creatures who want to eat my magic, or are attracted to it.”

“Once, I traveled with one of those chatty Masques,” they continue. “Nearly had a platoon of draklings on us. You know those magic-eating tunnelers with triple jaws, one reaching out after another. I swear a dragon had a bad dream and sent it out into the Wild. The demicats find the hatchlings of these draklings super tasty. It makes the perfect bait for what we need.”

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