To Find Friends

Act 1: The Old Homestead

Chapter 1: Prologue.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRj5BQk4Y7A A cart rolled into a small, lonely looking homestead in the wide-open fields south of a terrible fortress that was set around an active Volcano, just barely noticeable on the edge of the horizon. There was a small, perhaps 2 or 3 room house, with a tin roof extending from the right side, where a horse stood, tied up. A stone's throw away from that was a barn, which was laughably bigger than the house. All around the outer fence, there were small patchwork areas that were once fields of something. Inside the fence line was various farmers tools, from various centuries, lying everywhere. Most of them showing early signs of deterioration.

On the cart were a number of people. A old, Easterly-dressed, dark skinned woman shared the driver seat with a young fair-skinned man in burnt, ripped, torn servant's uniform. Behind them, in the bed of the wagon were five others. All of them were as battered and disheveled as the young man driving. There was a cyborg sitting next to a silent-type young man, with a light, altogether fine, but unkempt, beard who watched a snoring, more heavily bearded man twitching on the floor of the cart. Across from the cyborg and the silent man sat a slightly younger man with a significant goatee dwarfing all other facial hair, and a young dark-skinned lady (who obviously had no facial hair,). Of those five, only the lady was not wearing thin gray prisoner's garb. 

They had all just escaped prison. Thunderclap Prison.

The old, dark skinned woman, Mrs. Richardson, also known by her Easterner persona, 'Sandhya', pointed to the overhang. "Park there, Carson."

The driver, Carson Flemming complied.

"That's not good," from the back of the cart, Peragrine Wanderthistle, the young man sporting the goatee, indicated the one horse. "Where's the other horse?"

Next to him, the young woman, Emily, also known as 'Yasmine' responded. "I think that's Tain's horse." 

'Tain', another escaped prisoner, had gone ahead with two other fellow escapees. 'Loden', a rather roguish and mysterious blonde fellow,  and Peter Silverstine, Emily's brother, who had ridden on the back of Loden's horse. They had left with two horses. . .

And now there was only one. 

"If he's here, he'll know. Let's find out," Emily reasoned, quelling the unease in her gut.

The silent one next to the cyborg kicked the sleeping one on the bed of the cart. He muttered something about rice cakes, and rolled over.

As soon as the cart stopped rolling, Peragrine hopped out, followed quickly by Emily. The others followed more slowly.

Peragrine hopped up the two steps to the door and knocked. "Hello? Tain? Anyone home?" he yelled.  Behind him, some shushed.

Nothing happened for a moment, while the silent one, going by the name 'Vorpal' helped the cyborg, 'Burnie' out of the cart. It was clear Burnie needed medical attention. 

When they had found him in Thunderclap Prison, Burnie was actually an integrated pilot of what could only be described as an advanced BarneyBot. During the escape, he had been forcibly extricated from it by a Red Mythran, then ran over by the cart. Thankfully, the cart destroyed the Red Mythan's glasslike physical structure when it took it by surprise. Unfortunately, though being made of mostly metal as cyborgs commonly are, Burnie was further harmed. His face, with it's only human feature being his left eye, betrayed very little emotion as his mechanical legs audibly whined and shifted, as he got up and, with Vorpal's help, carefully climbed out of the wagon. 

The opening of the door refocused everyone. Tain stood in the doorway with a rusty spear. 

"Get in."

Chapter 2: Falling Apart.

"Get in."

Emily rushed past Tain, her sari snagging the old rusty spear he had found over the other doorframe as a decoration. He understood her behavior; she needed to see her brother.

Peragrine followed. "Nice to see you too, buddy!" he said. Tain just patted him on the back to move him along. 

Mrs. Richardson followed after. "Where are the tenants?" she asked. Tain shook his head. 

"Place was abandoned." 

Carson followed in next.  "Great, and I was looking for a bed and breakfast." he snarked. Tain shoved him to move along. Suddenly the snoozer in the cart poked his head up. 

"ARE WE THERE YE- oh, we're here." 

Vorpal, of whom Burnie was leaning heavily on as they went up the two steps to the door, turned his head and remarked smoothly, "Oh, so you decided to get up."

"You say that like it's a choice!" remarked the sleeper.

"Get in," repeated Tain. Behind him, Mrs. Richardson stopped Peragrine from lighting a fire in the stove, while Carson began rummaging in an adjoining  room. A kitchen. 

"You. Better. 'get in.' No-Name," voiced Burnie, his speech tremulous and vibrating, hidden behind a warped faceplate. "Or. We May. Leave yo- uhg. Leave you. Out Here."

'No-Name' seemed to give it an extended think as Vorpal and Burnie made it up the steps. Once they began stepping across the threshold, No-Name hopped out of the wagon and zipped in behind them. Tain closed the door.

Peragrine pulled a comfy-looking chair from the wall of furniture around the room. "I take it you re-arranged the furniture, Tain?"

Tain nodded. "For security."

"What about the other young man? What was his name...?" Began Mrs. Richardson.

Burnie shoved off of Vorpal and used his chipped metal claws to grip the leg of a table that was on it's side, blocking a window with it's flat surface. "Loden. Blonde, Approximately in his 30s. Did well with a sword. Limited data," he spewed. 

"Yes, him."

Tain shook his head. "Said he had to be on his way. I do too."

Peragrine stood up. "Wait, now?"

"I was just waiting for the rest of you to get here."

"Wait, but-"

"Makes sense," No-Name said, as he stood by the wood stove. He held up a already packed sack. Tain gave a start. "Thanks, bro." said No-Name. Then he threw something on the ground, and disappeared in a cloud of soot. 

Of course, this caused some light coughing, as everyone's vision was obscured for a moment. There was some scuffling around, and Peragrine heard Tain mutter "That was MY pack," but Peragrine noted a heavier thud from Burnie's direction.  Once eye and lung cleared again, Peragrine saw that the 'thud' had been Burnie collapsing onto the ground.

"Woah, hey, buddy, get up." Peragrine rushed over and wrestled the heavy Burnie into a sitting position. Only then did he notice that Burnie was hardly responsive. 

"Burnie?"

His human eye was glazed over. Peragrine wondered if he was even breathing, but with that facemask, he couldn't tell. 

Vorpal rushed over next, and everyone else circled in, even Carson, who was munching on a potato while pouring salt on it.

"Burnie, what is wrong?" Vorpal asked, voice low with concern and urgency.

Burnie's eyes focused on Vorpal for a moment, before wandering to everyone else. "I will not survive."

"What?!" cried Peragrine. "No, you'll be fine! Just tell me what you need."

Burnie turned to Peragrine. "No. It is. One Hundred Per Ce-"

"Nonsense, don't talk like that, I'll just-" Peragrine began as he got up.

Burnie gripped the young man's shoulder before he could continue. "I. Am not. Meant. To Function without... External Resources."

Vorpal nodded. "You said you were the 'heart of the machine' when we found you."

Burnie nodded.

"Well, what if we got you a Barneybot shell? Would you work then? I can go get one now!" Peragrine suggested, pulling on Burnie's iron grip.

Burnie shook his head. "It would take too-" suddenly a red light lit on Burnie's chest, accompanied by a small whine. Burnie appeared to have run out of breath.  He began pressing buttons on his right arm, the arm that was holding Perry.

Tain finished for Burnie. "Too much time to modify."

Burnie nodded, then pointed to his arm. An LED readout read: "!t ha5 833n a pl3a5ur3 2 8 0f 53rv!c3. Thank y0u f0r fr33!ng m3."

More lights appeared, and more warning signs went off, and the readout began giving system errors, such as 'LOW OXYGEN', '0% POWER' 'EXTENSIVE DAMAGE' 'INTERNAL FAILURE'...

Burnie tilted his head back and closed his natural eye. Finally, the grip on Peragrine's arm loosened, and clanged hollowly on the floor. The warnings and lights all wore out, and all was silent in the house.

...

Until Carson spoke.

"Well, that sucks."

"Shut up," was the reply Tain gave.

The harsh words stirred Mrs. Richardson. "I am going to check on Emily," she said, and she excused herself, disappearing into the bedroom. "Emily, dear..."

The four remaining men fell back into silence, except for the occasional sniffle from Peragrine. 

Vorpal looked up at the others. Carson was frowning as he stared at the last bite of potato he had. Tain had a similar expression as he stared at Burnie's form, deep in thought. Peragrine's gaze was also transfixed with Burnie, but it showed emotional confusion instead of deep thought. 

"We should bury him." Vorpal directed his words to Tain. Tain nodded curtly.

Wiping his nose on his frayed prisoner garb, Peragrine stood up. "I'll help."

Vorpal nodded his thanks, and the two tried to lift Burnie.

"Oof!"

But to no success.

Tain moved forward to help. 

"Good, we shall each grab a limb." Vorpal suggested.

They all looked at Carson expectantly, as he was wiping his hands of potato.

Carson did not appear to notice. A moment later, Tain 'ahemed'.

"Got a frog in your throat, Doc?" Carson muttered, crossing his arms and turning away casually.

"Carson, could you, ah-" began Peragrine, thinking maybe he just didn't understand they were waiting for him.

"No."

Vorpal glanced at Tain, and saw his brow furrow ever so slightly. Tain repositioned and squatted with his back to the body, grabbing the legs on his sides. 

"We'll try with three," he said to Vorpal and Perry.

Peragrine, after a moment's hesitation of staring at Carson, nodded to Vorpal, who replied. "Agreed."

"One. Two."

They lifted on three, and Tain threw the legs over his shoulders as the other two jointly carried the shoulders on their shoulders. Tain opened the door, and they went down the steps, out from the overhang and behind the house.

(\\\}======>

Chapter 3:Family

"Get in."

Emily needed no second persuasion, and rushed past him. She had to see her brother. She was standing in what appeared to of been the main room, but all of the furniture had been pushed to the walls or up against windows. However, the entrances to the two other rooms and a small area around the unlit wood-burning stove were still clear. She peeked into the tiny 'bedroom'. 

"Brother!" 

He lay on the bed, surrounded by a makeshift apothecary. Kitchen herbs, a water basin, ripped up shirts and rags. He turned his head and when he saw his little sister, he smiled.

"Oh Peter!" she breathed. "You're alive." She ran over and dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around her eldest brother on the bed, so glad that she would be able to cherish him a little longer on this plane of existence.

"Ow." He replied.

She let him lay back down, and noticed the pain in his 'smile' for the first time.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"Pretty bad. But now I understand why Carson kept calling Tain 'Doc'," Peter said. "He may not be one by trade, but he should consider it!"

They both laughed softly, and a quiet pause followed, in which they heard the others in the main room conversing. 

"So, did you ev-"

"So, how did you an-".

"Oh, go ahead," said Emily.

"No, ladies first!" smiled Peter.

Emily opened her mouth for a retort, mildly irritated by her brother playing the propriety card, but she acquiesced. "Ok... I was going to ask... if you're ok talking about it..." 

"Yes. Father was captured." 

Emily nodded. She was thankful for the blunt answer.

"He did not make it."

The concern in Emily's eyes disappeared. It was replaced by an impassive stony gaze as Peter continued.

"They interrogated him for information. They wanted our mines, people, locations, techniques, alloys. They needed the raw materials for something... something massive."

"Or Barneybots," she interjected. 

Light coughing emanated from the other room.

"Right, or more of those monstrosities," Peter agreed. "Either way, they were only going to harm people with whatever we told them, so Father wouldn't give them anything. So they tortured him. A bit too far, apparently." Peter began staring at the wall behind Emily as he continued to ramble. "When I'd hear them torturing him like that, I knew that once they'd tried everything with him, they'd go onto either me or Uncle."

"Uncle Jean?"

"Yeah, Uncle Jean. He... Oh my God." Peter sat up, pale as paper. "We left him there."

"No, no, Peter. It's not like that. Jean's actually quite..." She stopped him from trying to stand. 

"What do you mean? Jean escaped too?"

"No. He's actually really well off."

Peter frowned, confused, but allowed Emily to lay him back down. Of course, the pain in every movement also aided in taking him down.

"He didn't escape but he's well off; explain that to me."

"Jean is the reason we found the rest of you. But he doesn't know that."

"So, wait, you know where he is, but we just left him there?" 

"Peter, it's compli- he wouldn't have wanted to come!" she barked.

"What do you mean, Em?" frustration and confusion was getting the better of the both of them.

"I mean that he's in a cushy apartment, and we were pretending to be Persian Carpeters from the far east, and that's why I'm wearing this stupid, thick tanning lotion, and we've been trying our best to not be found and yet find you, but of course that meant disappearing for forever till we could look where you were most likely to be, which is in the middle of it all, and then Uncle Jean gave us just the in we need, and we were able to get all the prisoners of thedude out, but JEAN IS NOT A PRISONER!" she explained, ending with more exasperation than she really meant. 

Peter regarded his little sister anew. She wasn't so little anymore. Not that she ever had been. Emily had always been the most responsible of the four of them. He and Austin had a bad habit of getting into trouble together, and Stirling was prone to going off by himself, while Emily always knew where everyone was and what was going on. And in the few times where it was just the four of them in some situation, and Mother and Father were not around, their little sister always knew what to do.  Sure, Peter was the oldest, but he certainly wouldn't say he was the wisest. That was Emily.

But something was different about her now, and he wasn't just talking about the insane tan. Right now, she didn't seem so wise. She didn't know what to do. She sighed deeply, and her frustration disappeared from view. 

Ah, but it did not disappear altogether. He could tell that she was still very tense. Irritated, perhaps. 

"I'm sorry, Sister." Time. Time had changed her, he decided. Life and hope and goals and everyday living may have stopped for him and the others in that prison, but not for others. "It appears I have alot to catch up on."

Emily smiled softly, and nodded. 

All was quiet in the house.

...

A Moment later, the door swung fully open from it's mostly closed position.

"Emily, dear."

"Mrs. Richardson!" Emily beamed.

"How is your brother?"

"Peter is well. Or rather..."

"Well enough," finished Peter as he craned his neck to see who he was talking to. "Thanks to you, I think. You brought the wagon, right?"

"That's right," Mrs. Richardson confirmed.

"Peter, this is Mrs. Richardson. Mrs. Richardson, my brother, Peter." Emily introduced, not wanting to forget basic manners. "She's been a good friend to me and Mother since we found her and ... Bethany ... at an inn on the edge of the Fire desert. "

Mrs Richardson nodded and smiled, but it was tempered at the mention of 'Bethany.'

Peter nodded in understanding. He hadn't known the girl's name till now, but she was memorable enough. From what he could understand, Bethany had used magic to create a shockwave of some kind, but it has exhausted her very life, or something like that. But he could be not remembering correctly. He had been having a mental breakdown induced by the evil Warden, Malesius. He shivered at the collective memory of it all. Already, their escape seemed ages ago, even though it was only just yesterday. 

"Bethany... Yes, I think I remember her. She was very brave to help us escape."

Emily smiled. "She'd blush to hear you say that."

"I am glad you remember her, Peter," Mrs. Richardson said. "Even more so that her sacrifice was not in vain, and that you and others live."

Peter smirked weakly. Then he blinked. "Wait, Fire Desert?"

Emily nodded.

"Is THAT why you're all dressed like easterners?"

Emily laughed. "I thought I just told you!"

"And how long ago was all that?"

"14 years ago."

Peter shook his head and sighed. "I..." He tried to get up, but both women kept him down before he hurt himself. "Tell me everything," he whispered. "Please."

Emily sat on the bed next to Peter. "Well, it's a long story, but I'll te-"

Right then, the door opened, and Carson popped his head in. He looked more dour than usual. "They're burying Burnie. You'll want to pay your respects."

"What?!" Emily and Peter barked as the latter craned his head around again.

Chapter 4: Farewell.

It was about 25 or 30 paces from the house. Not nearly far enough, Peter thought. But what was he going to do about it? Nothing. He was too exhausted to say anything, much less argue they needed to dig again.

And the worse part was that he had just watched them dig. 

Sitting in a chair that his sister had gotten him. Bless her, but it was so humiliating. So torn up was he, mentally and physically, that all he was good for was to just sit here and watch the others toil in the dirt. Nevertheless, they had all dug a hole deep enough. Even Carson had (halfheartedly) helped by clearing the dirt piling up on the edge of the grave. It had taken a few hours, but with everyone pitching in, as well as the need to do it to stay warm in the cold air, and the soil thankfully getting softer the deeper they got, it was done quickly.

Now that the grave had been dug, everyone looked at each other... 

Someone had to say a few words before they lowered him in.

Well, at least he could do that.

"I didn't know Burnie very well. Of course, I don't think any of us did." Peter began. Everyone agreed.

"All we really know about him was that he was a cyborg, wasn't liked by thedude, and was denied his freedom. Like the rest of us. He helped us to get free, once he understood. Like anyone, Burnie had hopes and dreams. While he probably didn't get to do all of them, I think we can take comfort that now he can do those things knowing his shell here is free. It won't be taken apart, or studied, or dissected. He will be given a proper burial, and we shall leave it at that." Peter stopped to check with his audience. Some were getting disinterested, most were deep in thought.

"I'm not sure what everyone's stance is here on 'the afterlife'..." 

That brought their attention back.

"... But I, for one, believe there is life after death. I believe Burnie is free-er than any of us here. He has achieved more freedom than any of us here."

Peter's eye was caught by a tear from Mrs. Richardson. And that reminded him.

"Let us also not forget those we've left behind. Bethany, and Mo- erm, Mrs. Silverstine. Is there anyone I am missing?"

They all thought for a moment, but only Emily responded. "Just Jean, but he will be... alright."

"Can someone say a few words for Bethany?" Peter asked. "I am afraid I do not have perfect clarity on what happened."

Peragrine stepped forward, as Emily nodded.

"Bethany was a-"

"Yes, Beth and I-"

Emily glanced back at Peragrine. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"No, go ahead, you knew her longer, I think?"

"...Thank you." She replied. 

"Beth and I go way back. Almost a decade ago, I and Mother, that's Mrs. Silverstine to the rest of you, met Beth and Mrs. Richardson far to the east, right outside Morcia's eastern Border on the edge of the Fire Desert. Together, we disguised ourselves as Easterner Merchants and took refuge from thedude's influence in the east. That worked for a time, and we became successful and rather well known in that region. All the while, we did not forget our family and kin here in Morcia. Mrs Richardson expected her husband to come after them, but he never did. Eventually, we garnered enough reputation and respect to be commissioned a caravan to the West. We hoped to cater to thedude himself, and perhaps 'furnish' his very demise." She laughed. "But then my Uncle, Jean-Claude Silverstine, somehow found us by a stroke of luck, called us, and we were diverted to Thunderclap Keep, where he was being kept. Once there, we performed much of our original plan, but once  we heard about dungeons... Of course we had to get in there, save who we could, map that as well." Here she withdrew a notepad from her ever-constant satchel. "And with a little math and artistry, we can have a detailed map of thedude's Fortress!"

Peter had to admit, he loved her zeal, but he also had to steer her back to the main point. "What does this have to do with Bethany?"

Emily cleared her throat as she tucked the precious notepad away. "Right. Well, thanks to Carson here-"

"You are NOT pinning any of this on me!"

"Shut up." Said Peter, Emily, Tain, and Vorpal.

"Yeah, be quiet." Finished Perry lamely.

Emily continued. "...Carson got us into the dungeons. There, Bethany activated a trap, which nearly extinguished her spark. She was so exhausted from... 

"She should have collapsed there." Carson interrupted.

Emily was furious. "Carson, will you PLEASE respe-"

"No, I'm serious." Carson's tone was soft. "She should have been done for right then. That trap was designed by some very devious people. It supposed to crush your very reason for living right out of you. Maleisus explained it to me in detail so that I could know how grave a mistake would be." He looked up at Emily. "I did try to stop her."

A pause. Then, "That's right, you did."

Carson continued. "Anyway, while she sat there trying to recover, I led her," he motioned to Emily, "on her crazy suicide mission deeper into the prison, where we found THIS maniac," he shoved a thumb at Peragrine, who grinned maniacally, and playfully shoved Carson away. "Who scared the LIVING DAYLIGHTS out of me, then promptly 'healed' me, quote-unquote. Oh, and by the way, I'm STILL numb there." He motioned to his back.

"Really?"

"YES."

"How odd. Maybe I could fix that..."

"NO! just..."

The two quickly derailed into a heated conversation about his back, and Emily picked up where Carson left off.

"Since Peragrine had seemed to help Carson, I asked him if he could help Beth. And he did, sort of. She ended up having the same effect as Carson, but since she was hurt all over, so to speak, Peragrine appeared to 'numb' her hurt... all over. She said she couldn't feel anything. But there was no time to worry about that, since you guys arrived where we were waiting.

Mrs. Richardson had been paying close attention, but now she interjected. "Who arrived?"

Emily named them off. "Tain arrived with Peter, Loden, Burnie, Carson, Vorpal and No-Name. He met up with Beth, Perry and me who had stayed behind in the main room to take care of Beth."

Mrs Richardson nodded her understanding, and Emily continued her narrative.

"Once Carson got the door open, the Warden came in, and he had terrible power. He seemed to exploit a weakness in all of the prisoners that he knew of beforehand, like a sadistic... well, Warden." Emily recounted. "One of those was when he threw some sort of gem at Perry, who then collapsed in apparent exhaustion."

Hearing his name, Peragrine broke from his conversation with Carson to listen.

"The important thing is, though, that the gem stayed suspended in air. Moments later, the Warden noticed Me and Beth, and he shot at us with lightning. Bethany actually jumped in front of it, saving me. Only after I've had time to think about it do I realize why she survived it." Emily turned to look at Peragrine.

"Your numbing of her senses allowed her to not feel any pain."

Peragrine looked up, seemingly subdued. "Yeah. I guess so." 

"Anyway, right after that, Bethany noticed the Gem, and... She grabbed it, and it started to emit a ringing, which grew more and more..." Emily's recounting of events slowed. "I don't really know what happened next, or why, but there was an explosion of... air?" She directed her next words to Perry. "And while everyone else was knocked back, you were standing up. Why?"

Peragrine shook his head. "The gem he threw at me captured my energy." He clarifed. "I guess somehow that when Bethany touched it, she was able to make it release somehow, but I'm not sure. Either way, I was, uh... Recharged, which allowed me to capture the Warden with my magic!"

"But whatever Bethany did to release your... energy," Vorpal spoke. "exhausted her very spark."

Peragrine bowed his head. "For all I know, there's alot I don't. I wish I knew how that all worked."

Mrs. Richardson, lips pursed, asked another question. "From there, what happened?"

No one immediately answered, except for the wind, which rustled everyone's hair and clothes.

"From there, we went up the stairs and fought our separate ways to the stables and gatehouse, when you and Carson came barreling in with the wagon!" Emily finished succinctly. 

Carson's eyes went wide with terror. "YOU JUST LEFT HIM THERE?!?"

"The Warden? No, we-" Peragrine blurted, but was interrupted.

"We smashed him." Tain assured the ex-employee of the Warden.

Carson tried to hide his relief. "Well... Good!"

Emily looked at Peter, who was staring at his hands folded in his lap.

(\\\}======>

Shortly thereafter, they finished the memorial for Burnie and Bethany and filled up the hole. Three shovels made up the 'headstone'.

After yet another quiet silence, Mrs. Richardson said she was going inside to fix a little something for everyone. Peter asked if he could come, and Peragrine rushed over to his other side. Emily grabbed the chair, and those four went inside.  Shortly after, Carson muttered something about 'slim pickings' and hurried inside. Tain and Vorpal stood alone in front of the grave.

"I intend to leave." Vorpal declared.

Tain nodded.

"I do not need rations, but I would like your permission to take a horse. However, only the carriage horses are left."

"Don't need my permission."

"Nevertheless, I thought you deserved to know." 

Tain made no response. 

A minute later, he was alone, and the sound of receding hooves was the only other sound accompanying the blustery wind.  

Chapter 5: Oral History

Peter had refused to be put back to bed, so instead Emily had set the chair against the wall in the main room where he could see almost every door in the house. He could see part of the kitchen where Emily, Mrs. Richardson, and Carson were busy making something that smelled profoundly delicious. Peragrine was currently being ousted from there after a profoundly loud 'WHUMP' followed by what sounded like muffled profanity from Carson.

"Peragrine, tell Peter what you told me about Austin!" Emily yelled, smiling as she appeared in the doorway shoving Peragrine into the main room. He was covered in sugar, (or was it salt?) and looked clueless. 

Peter had nearly fell out of his chair at that. 'Peragrine knew about Austin?!'

"Oh! OH!" Peragrine shook himself, and white powder wisped off him, but he was still quite white. (it must have been flour) He magically dragged an armchair to himself and plonked down next to Peter. 

"I know about Austin!" 

Peter smiled large, his first big smile in a long time. 

"And Stirling!" Perry added.

Peter's face froze. "What?"

"Your brothers?"

"You... know Stirling?"

"Yeah! We're best buds! I've known the guy for decades! Well, I mean, did."

"YOU KNOW ABOUT MY LITTLEST BROTHER?!" Peter grabbed Perry and shook him like a ragdoll in his excitement. "HOW IN THE BLUE BLAZES IS THIS POSSIBLE?!?" Every muscle was screaming in pain at this exertion, but he didn't even notice, so shocked was he by this extra revelation.

"I-yi-yi-yi kn-ow-ow-ow hi-yi-iy-m -fr-ou-ou-ou-m the-e- NE-e-X-Uy-Uy-S F-Oo-Oo-Orce!!!" he replied as best he could.

"Peter, stop scrambling those brains of his!" Emily barked quite sensibly from the kitchen.

"Um, right." He glanced from Emily back to Perry apologetically as he settled back into his chair.

Peragrine settled back into his own chair, as his eyes slowly stopped spinning like slot machines. "Um. Yeah. So, what do you want to know?"

"EVERYTHING!" cried both siblings.

Peragrine thought a moment, shrugged, and began telling them... 'everything.'

"Well. I met Stirling in Nexus Tower, while I was Janitoring. I had my jams on, so I was sorta distracted, and I guess Strider was also beca-" 

"Wait, you call him Strider sometimes?"

"Oh yeah, he hates it, so sometimes I do." Perry grinned mischievously. Peter shook his head, smiling.

Over the next few minutes Peragrine had related his first meeting with Stirling, and how that tied in with their next two meetings which made them fast friends, on and off the battlefield.  Emily and Peter were both sitting in the chairs, with Peragrine standing and in full storytelling mode to his captive audience. Meanwhile, Carson and Mrs. Richardson were continuing to make impressive mouth-watering aromas emanate from the kitchen. 

However, when Tain came through the front door accompanied by howling icy gusts, everyone turned around.

Even though Tain had changed out of his prisoner garb into old farmer's clothes, he was shivering as he held a single log under his arm. Mrs. Richardson and Carson poked their heads out of the kitchen at him.

"Where's Vorpal?" asked Peter.

Tain shook his head. "Left."

Peter grimaced in irritation, but bobbed his head in understanding.

Tain walked past Emily, Peter, and Peragrine towards the stove.

"Are we going to have a fire?" Asked Peragrine excitedly.

"Yes."

"But, don't we want to be inconspicuous?" reminded Emily.

Mrs Richardson came out of the kitchen with more logs and handed them to Tain who began arranging them in the stove. "I've been watching the windows in the kitchen that you didn't block up, Tain." She said. "The smoke soon won't make us any more visible than mist in an ocean. The weather's getting bad."

Carson laughed, but it was dry and sounded more like a dog barking. "Does that mean I can fry something on the stove in the kitchen?" 

Mrs. Richardson turned around and raised an enterprising eyebrow, with her fists on her hips. "It means our menu has expanded, Carson. To the kitchen!"

Carson weighed the work against the payoff, then followed the woman into the kitchen. So long as he could sneak pre-emptive bites.

"Matches," Tain requested.

Emily was already looking. "I don't see any."

"Flint?" Peter fielded. 

"No...?" 

"Oh, just let me!" Peragrine said, as he strutted over to the stove. He pulled up his prisoner's sleeves even further up past his elbows than the ill-fitting garb already had them. Tain looked back at Peragrine, who had a smug look on his features.  But right then, the sound of crackling wood was heard from the kitchen, and Carson came out with matches. 

"They were in the cupboards." He said, before his eyes alit on Peragrine with hands outstretched. "Dear God, you wern't going to have HIM light a fire?"

Tain shook his head.  Peragrine frowned mockingly. "You guys are no fun!" 

Tain took the matches and began kindling the fire. 

"Peragrine, please tell me how you came to Militeregnum. Is Stirling here too? And how did you learn about Austin?" Peter asked.

Peragrine snapped his fingers and turned back to his audience. "Ah yes! Well, Stirling had shore leave, and so he decided he would come home, since it had been so long and he hadn't heard much from you all. So I offered to be his pilot, and we drove out here in a shuttle."

"Shuttle?"

"Yeah, a shuttle, you know? A..." It took Perry a moment to realize Peter didn't really know what spaceships were. "Ah, we used a spaceship. A metal ship that can travel space- Travel the stars." He pointed up.

Peter nodded vaguely, as Emily watched silently. "Continue." 

"When we got here though, the Nexus Force had put up a blockade!" He stretched his arms out. "All around the planet, to stop thedude from leaving the planet. Or from people getting onto the planet. Anyway, that was the first sign that things were really wrong. At Strider's request, I flew expertly through the blockade- it was very impressive, you should have seen it- and then we crash-landed on the planet.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Crash-landed? Clearly, there was something to be desired on your... expert flying?"

There was an awkward pause, and Emily stifled a laugh.

Peragrine shrugged. "We landed on the planet, pretty much ok. The ship was destroyed though." He stared off into the distance for a moment. "Cosmic Brownie, I will never forget you!"

Tain closed the glass door of the stove, having successfully gotten the fire going. Without a word, he glanced out one of the partially covered windows, then went into the bedroom.

Peragrine continued. "From there, we met a farmer, who brought us up to speed, where we actually met his wife, which is Mrs. Richardson." He turned back to the kitchen. "Which reminds me, where is Mr. Richardson?" 

An abrupt silence rolled out from the kitchen.

"Oh."

"Peragrine," began Emily, but Perry already understood.

Mrs. Richardson came out of the kitchen. "A few days after you and Stirling left, a group of Paradox came. My husband had me and Bethany leave with the remaining horse while he dealt with them. Later, we saw smoke, and knew that the house was burning. So the next day, we went back, and... It was all gone."

Peragrine bowed his head. "I'm... I'm sorry Mrs. Richardson."

"Don't be. It's not anything you could have prevented. Not then. But now!" she gestured to him. "Now you are equipped. What will you do with it?"

Peragrine glanced down at himself. He knew no one else could see it, but his power would glow bright green to him, framing himself in a thin shell, and welling around his hands, in massive jelly-looking spheres. 

"I want to do what I've always done. Try to help. To make things better. But first of all, I need to find my partner. I need to find Stirling.

"Tell us how you got separated." Peter suggested.

"Ok." Peragrine agreed, looking up, and blinking a few times to clear the green tint everything had taken on when he had tapped into his magic.

"After a few days of travelling, in which we had a few other adventures, we got to a place called Calibus Tower." Various amounts of recognition alit in Perry's audience. "There, we stayed for the night, and also met Stirling's brother, Austin!"

Peter shook happily in his chair, as Emily beamed.

"Austin was there as part of an effort to mine all the way to Mount Thunderclap, and collapse it from below, where thedude would never expect. I don't know exactly how he got there, he told Strider all that in detail. 

The next day, though, Strider got me and Austin together, and he said he wanted to check on Silverstine Keep. Austin warned him there wasn't anything worth checking out, but Strider wanted to go anyway. I offered to go with him, but Strider wanted to be able to stay in contact with Austin. So I offered to stay with Austin. We all agreed, and Stirling left later that day for his home up in the northern mountain range."

"On Mynydd Tiwna..." Peter murmured.

"Anyway, a few days after that, I was in the mines with Austin, when suddenly we were attacked. Paradox came in from a bunch of different directions, and I lost sight of Austin in all of the fighting." Peragrine's eyes flashed with the memory of the literally dark encounter.  

"The Raid of Calibus Tower..." Mrs. Richardson whispered.  Emily nodded, as Peter and Perry glanced up at the woman inquisitively. 

"I remember. Calibus Tower was attacked." Mrs. Richardson said quietly. "The news about it when J.C. Merchants passed through that area was something about rebels being put... down. This 'Lady Charlotte' was supposedly 'saved' from revolutionaries holding her hostage..."

Worried looks spread throughout the room. Emily turned to Peragrine. "Are you sure you don't remember anything more?"

Peragrine shook his head helplessly. "I don't. Shortly after that, I was captured by a Paradox Sorcerer, who... I think is the reason I can do magic." Peragrine began fiddling with his goatee as strange memories of his imprisonment began stewing in his mind. "I think her name was Menaya Ryffyd. No, that's not right. Steffan Kull? Maybe?"

Peter waved his hands to get Peragrine back on point. "So, the last time you saw Stirling was when he was heading up to Silverstine Keep, and the last time you saw Austin was in the middle of a battle at Calibus?"

"Yes." Answered Peragrine.

Peter glanced down, worry plain on his face. "Neither of those bode well."

"Well, Calibus Tower is now some sort of base for thedude," Emily mentioned, looking to Mrs. Richardson. "It's a big metal tower now, and relativly well guarded. At least, that's what we saw when we pasted by it as J.C. Merchants." Mrs. Richardson agreed.

"HEY BOZOS." Yelled Carson. "Dinner's ready!" 

Chapter 6: Dinner and a Show

A table was set up, silverware was found, and chairs were pulled up quickly.

Carson and Mrs. Richardson had done magnificently with what they had. Potatoes. Really REALLY dried jerky. Herbs and spices galore. Beans. A few dozen carrots. From this, there were spiced potatoes, baked beans, and a tasty, if very watery, stew. Which worked out, since all there was to drink was water.

And of course that 3 out of the 6 sitting there had been eating prisoner food for nearly ten years, give or take.

At first, the table was quiet, as certain of the group silently prayed, and as food was passed about. Then, after everyone had gotten a little something in their stomachs, and the smell of food was no longer torturous, there was room in between bites for words.

"So!" Peragrine said around a mouthful of beans. "Whatcha been doing in the bedroom, Tain?"

"That sounds so wrong," muttered Carson.

"Planning." Tain answered.

"Ok... What about?"

Tain stopped eating. "There's something I need to do".

"And you're leaving to do it, right?" Peter asked.

"Yes", Tain answered simply.

The conversation lulled, and everyone busied themselves with another bite.

"What sort of something?" Perry asked.

Tain examined Perry for a moment with a neutral expression -not that his expression wasn't usually neutral. Why did they have to be so inquisitive?

"Something I should have done before I got captured".

"Oooh. So cryptic," Carson mocked behind a bowl of stew.

Mrs. Richardson regarded the 'cryptic' man quietly.

Undeterred, Peragrine asked, "And how long ago was that?"

"About a decade".

"Huh."

"And you will leave as soon as the storm had abated, I assume?" Emily asked, finishing her meal.

"The sooner the better".

"What, you don't like out company?" "Well arn't you a ray of sunshine." Perry and Carson replied.

Now, the signs of annoyance at this questioning although discreet had become visible on Tain's face, "I don't have the time to play friends, I'm sorry. There are serious things to be done".

"If that is how you feel, we will respect your wishes, Tain. But you should not push away free friends in this land. After you leave here, they will come at a cost." Mrs. Richardson spoke softly.

"I don't... I can't..." Tain tried to speak, but couldn't find the right words. He contemplated for a moment and started again, "I don't have the luxury to... to all of this, like you do", his hands made circular movements as in to point to the whole room or the people within it.

Everyone paused as they tried to understand what he meant. They were all staring at him to continue. Tain's shoulders tensed as everyone's full attention was directed to him. His eyes darted from person to person like those of a cornered animal; he didn't know what to do.

"Well, I, for one, intend to stay here for awhile longer, at least till Peter's stabilized a bit." Emily said abruptly.

Next to her, Peter nodded with mild irritation.

"And of course, I will stay with you, Emily," Mrs. Richardson added.

"What about you, Kid?" Carson asked Perry.

Peragrine's eyebrows shot up. "Me? Uh, well. . . I'm not sure yet. I know I gotta find Stir, but, I also want to make sure you guys are going to be ok, and that I can contact ya'll later." he directed his last words to the Silverstine siblings.

"That's ok, Peragrine. We will be fine. I would rather you found Stirling and Austin that have you sit around with me," Peter replied.

Tain looked at Perry. Calmer now, his eyes did not seem to focus on him entirely, though. He seemed to be considering something.

Having Peragrine tag along would make his life a lot more complicated than he wanted it to be. However, he'd certainly be a useful asset to a mission that might be impossible for him alone. And he'd probably be willing to come. And Mrs. Richardson was right when she said friends would be scarce... Tain's fists clenched and with a great feeling he would come to regret his words he spoke, "Maybe... we could team up".

Peragrine redirected his gaze on Tain. "Wat?"

Carson glanced back at Tain in confusion. "Are you crazy? The Kid's a walking time-bomb!" Then he paused... "On second thought, yeah, take the walking time-bomb."

Peragrine eyed Tain 'critically'. "Hrmm... Well, as long as you don't snore!" He declared.

"I don't... I... Hmm. I don't know if I do".

This elicited laughs from Emily, Mrs. Richardson, and Peter. Carson just looked bewildered.

"That's what's important in a traveling buddy to you? Snoring?" he asked Perry.

"Oh yes! If they snore, it affects my snoring!"

Carson tried to make sense of that, but failed.

"What about you, Carson?" Peter asked, as he stiffly turned in his chair to look at him.

Carson darted his gaze to the bandaged wreck at the end of the table. "It looks like I have two unsavory choices now. Go with 'Doc' and 'Kid', or stay with you guys." He paused. "Or I could just go off by myself."

"Well, you can't do the last one", Tain replied matter-of-factly.

Carson turned back to Tain. "What? Why not?"

"You've previously worked for thedude. You also helped us escape, so contacting his officials might not be the wisest plan, but we couldn't possibly know what you would decide to do. You may think that ratting us out will bring your comfy life back. That's not the optimal scenario for us, whatever they do with you".

The room was suddenly taut with tension. "So you're saying I'm a prisoner with you or them?" accused Carson.

"I'm saying you need to prove we can trust you before we can let you go".

Carson worked his jaw. "Huh, I don't think so. What about all those other guys? Were they trustworthy?"

"They were prisoners."

"Pfft! Real trustworthy." Carson scoffed.

"In that case, you should take him, Tain. I am in no shape to keep him, and I wouldn't ask my sister or Mrs. Richardson to do so," Peter suggested pointedly. 

Tain made a curt nod. He had come to the same conclusion, and as much as he disliked it, all other alternatives had now been done away with.

"No!" Carson stood up. "No, no, no!"

Emily stood up, a wry smile on her face. "Well, Carson..." She picked up a butterknife and fingered it. "I guess you could stay, if you rea-"

"TAKE ME WITH YOU, DOC!" Carson cried, diving at Tain. Tain shoved him off.

Emily laughed.

"Emily, dear?" Mrs Richardson was confused at this strange behavior.

"I stabbed him in the back when he tried to run away in the prison." Explained Emily, returning to her seat.

"At least 'Doc' has never harmed me!" Carson barked, hiding behind Tain's chair. "Physically, anyway."

Peragrine smiled. "Awesome! Three and three." Getting up, he peeked out the closest window. "I still have time to change, right? I'm going to raid the closet." He skipped into the bedroom and closed the door.

Carson, now all scowls, retreated to the stove, and sat there, stewing. Peter was content to stay at the table. A minute later, he asked if there was something he could write with. Mrs. Richardson found an old typewriter with a few sheets of yellow brittle paper. Peter began fiddling with it.

Meanwhile, Emily and Mrs. Richardson began creating rations for the leaving company, as Tain asked them a few guarded questions concerning what had changed in the past 10 years. What towns were 'safe'. What symbols or phrases were common with dissenters. Where known strongholds of thedude were. Safe passages, secret ways, hidden paths... The women did not have answers to all of his questions, but more than he initially had hoped. In that time, Peragrine came out, with a large, billowy, faded green shirt pinned down at his waist with a simple brown cord, and equally simple brown leggings and short poulaines on his feet. 

"Look! Just look at these shoes! These little pointy things are ADORABLE!"

Peter spared a moment to look up at Perry from his typewriter. He chuckled. "Looking fine, Peragrine."

Carson looked. "They make you look like a stupid leprechaun. Missing a hat."

Peragrine gasped. "You're right! I MUST FIND A HAT." He disappeared back into the bedroom.

Tain peeked out of the kitchen too late to see Perry. He glanced at Peter, busy typing away, then at Carson, who glared back. Tain stepped back into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, Peragrine stepped out, a little downcast. He tossed a straw rice hat behind him. "Nope. No hats today."

Carson just rolled his eyes as he continued to stare at the fire.

"What about you, Carson? I mean, that uniform looks comfy, but maybe take a look?"

Carson muttered a reply, but got up and elbowed past Perry to the bedroom, which he then closed.

Happy that Carson had taken his advice, Perry puttered over to Peter. "Watcha writing?"

"A Letter, now that I've learned how this contraption works," he replied, as he poked keys on the typewriter. "It's a brilliant piece of machinery."

Peragrine looked at what Peter had typed so far. On the top margin was a bunch of scrambled letters, some layered on top of each other. Peragrine pointed at the literary mess. "Was that your practice?"

Peter's lips twitched in derision. "The ink was dry," he replied sarcastically.

Peragrine grinned. "Riiiight." He read the actual type.

'Dear Brothers,

If you are reading this, then Peragrine has proven to be a true friend. First, let me tell you that I, Peter, am alive. Having only recently escaped from Thunderclap Keep, I and Emily are currently in hiding on a small farmstead a hard ride's south of Thunderclap Keep. By the time you receive this, we may have left, but we will be sure to leave notice in some discreet way only our family may know. Now let me put to rest the burning questions: Father is dead.'

"Wha?!" Perry's eyebrows popped up. "Mr. Silverstine is-"

Peter turned from his typing to give Perry a sad glance. "Yes. It is true."

Peragrine became downcast. "Gee... Strider's not going to like that."

Peter nodded. "I am sorry that it may fall to you to deliver that news. But I hope this letter will help with that."

"Thanks. Yeah, that should help."

"I would deliver it myself, but," Peter shrugged helplessly. "It looks like I won't be able to do that for some time yet." 

Perry smiled. "Don't worry, I've gotcha covered."

Peter nodded again, then turned back to the letter, as Peragrine continued reading over his shoulder.

'Mother, it is believed, was captured during out escape. Also, our Uncle, Jean-Claude is '

Peter had stopped typing. He leaned back in his chair and sighed softly. His back was tingling from scrunching over on the keys. "Emily, could you describe our Uncle's status to me again?"

From the kitchen came the reply. "Living comfortably at the expense of thedude, somehow."

"We don't know why?"

"We don't know why."

"Not very comforting, is it?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I'm typing a letter of reassurance."

"For whom?"

"For Peragrine to give to Austin or Stirling, whome'er he finds."

Emily emerged from the Kitchen, wiping her hands clean with a towel. "Ah, good idea."

Peragrine stroked his goatee. "Now, you said he's living at Thunderclap Keep, but would you say he's free?"

"No," replied Carson, having silently come out of the bedroom, now wearing a cardigain over his Caretaker's Uniform, and some heavily padded woollen pants which only billowed more oddly due to him layering them over his uniform. "No, he's not free. He's working for thedude, in fact." A malignant smile twisted his features. "He's helping thedude." 

Something in the two Silverstine siblings snapped. Peter lifted himself out of the chair, and held onto the table as he stood, as he glowered at Carson. 

"Liar!" yelled Emily.

"Oh-ho, definetly not!" Carson said, suddenly jovial. "Why would I tell you the truth, knowing full well it would make you mad?" he questioned. 

"Because of your sadistic pleasure in it, that's why!" Emily snarled. Tain and Mrs. Richardson came out of the kitchen at the sound of her raised voice. Peragrine simply stepped away from Peter's side and flickered his gaze between the three akwardly.

Next to her, Peter noted his sister's retort in surprise. Why was she so mad? This was not the cool and collected sister he remembered. He put a hand on her shoulder, and felt her tension before it faded a bit under his touch.

Refocusing on the antagonist, Peter replied. "Whatever you have to say about Jean, you may do so now." Emily looked back at Peter, irritated, but did not say anything.

Carson chuckled. "My, but you're giving me the floor, Mr. Mummy? Very well."

"Let me start with that Jean-Claude is one of my most... trying... Patients. His constant jovial mood and perfectly polished manners are constantly something I'm trying to avoid. I dread going to deliver anything to him because then he tends to keep me there with 'tea' or some pipe that needs fixing, or just 'for hospitality's sake' or any other number of reasons. But what he does for thedude is why I put up with him for so long."

Carson checked with his audience. Emily and Peter were both staring at him with the same nearly impassive stony gaze. Turning to his right, Perry stared idiotically, and to his left, Tain dropped his disquieted gaze, while Mrs. Richardson continued her pathetic sad stare.

"Have any of you heard of the Knights of the Olde Speech?"

No one responded, but there were a few lights of recognition, namely on everyone but Peter.

"Well, Jean-Claude was going to just be left to rot in the dungeons like the rest of you, but he made a bargain to use his head-knowledge to help decode some mysterious messages that thedude's minions had been intercepting. Written in a strange dialect, no one could decipher it. Of course, Jean has done other things that just translate intercepted messages since his first day in office, but his key job remains to translate the strange code known as 'Olde Speech' into basic English for us. Since then, rebels such as yourselves have had no and I mean NO co-ordination at all. Because we don't act on most of what we gather. Oh no. We just make sure that those messages disappear. Heh. If thedude's forces acted on every dissident message we've intercepted, there would be nothing left to rule. No. Maleisus only reports incidents if we stand to take immediate and... profitable action on it. Say, if the force was big enough to be a threat, or unguarded enough to vanquish without any... leaks." Carson smiled devilishly at Peter. "He was a brilliant man, Grand Warden Maleisus."

The squeak of nails on wood resounded as Emily placed a hand on Peter's shaking shoulder now.

"That's enough, Carson." Sighed Mrs. Richardson. She stepped towards him to steer him away from center stage.

"Just a minute, old woman. One last thing," he said, holding a finger up to her. She held, shocked at his behaviour. 

"For his services in clerical, Jean-Claude recieves gifts in return. Curtains, furniture, fine dining, slippers; Really, he's living like a duke up there, aiding in thedude's total takeover of everything and everyone. From what I know of the man, I highly doubt he cares. He's just an old, senile, old, stuffy, shut-in who's going to die as he lived; Pointlessl- m, mrm murrmmng mrmrmn mr...MMRH?" 

Peragrine lowered his hand as Carson futily tried to regain speech. "Mrs. Richardson is right, buddy. That's really enough." He whispered.

Carson clearly didn't like this. Going red in the face, he charged at Peragrine. However, the wizard boy merely waved a hand, and Carson fell just short, unconscious. Peragrine sighed. "Sorry 'bout that."

Peter and Emily relaxed visibly, and both returned to their previous tasks. Mrs Richardson turned to Tain. "Please. Take him." Then she hurried back into the kitchen after Emily.

(\\\}======>

Final preparations were made, and the storm lessened in its intensity. Looking out the window as he scoured the house a final time in search of anything else useful, Tain guessed they might be able to leave within the next few hours, if the storm did not pick back up.

Carson had yet to wake up where Peragrine had placed him, which was next to the wood stove in the armchair. Peragrine himself kept pacing between everyone, watching curiously, and occasionally muttering to himself in the middle of the main room. Peter finished his letter and folded the two papers in thirds. 

"Peragrine."

The wizard boy bounded over. "Yeah?"

"Here you go. Keep that safe." He handed him the yellow slip.

Peragrine took the letter. He began to unfold it, then paused. "Is it ok if I read it, Peter?"

Peter chuckled. "Don't be silly; of course." 

Peragrine perused the letter. "Hmm... Alright. Sounds good." Then he folded it back up, then in half, and half again, so it was a tiny yellow square. Then he slipped it into the chest pocket of his tunic.

"Safe with me, Pete!" he assured, patting the pocket.

(\\\}=====>

It was very dark, and still windy, when Tain decided to leave. But Tain didn't care. The icy sleet had stopped, and that's all he needed. According to the women, there was a small town a day's ride to the southeast, which lay alongside Morcia's great southern road. It was small, inconspicuous, didn't show on any map, and could maybe supply all their needs, including more horses. However, this course gave Tain pause, as that took him in the exact opposite direction of his objective. Where he needed to go was Northwest, to the Moorlands.

However, once it had been decided that he would be bringing a young man with insane magical abilities, and a prisoner with an insanely barbed tongue, he knew he was going to have to look after their needs as well as his own. So as Peragrine said tearful goodbyes to the Silverstines and Mrs. Richardson, he oriented his one pack-horse and a rope-bound Carson to the south-east. He would be heading to the small town of Wishwell, to better prepare himself and his travelling associates for the trials ahead.

After what seemed like forever to both Tain and Carson, Peragrine finally stepped off the porch. "Bye, guys! I'll be sure to write and send messenger pigeons, if I find any!"

"Which I'm sure Jean will read!" yelled Carson. Tearful goodbyes turned into frustrated 'shut up's directed at Carson. 

With the clothes they had on their backs, their one horse, and the meager supplies scavenged by Tain from the house, Peragrine, Carson, Tain, and the horse set off into the night. The other three, Mrs. Richardson, Emily, and Peter, stayed on the porch, straining their eyes till could see them no more in the dim light before dawn.

"Lord, watch over them," whispered Peter from his chair. Behind him, Emily patted his shoulders reassuringly, as Mrs. Richardson gave a teary 'amen', before suggesting they all head back inside before they caught a cold. 

<======{///) End Act 1 (\\\}======>

Act 2: Wishwell

Chapter 1: Walking

Tain already regretted having not left by himself when he'd had the chance.

They hadn't been walking more than an hour, Carson was complaining that his feet hurt, Peragrine was already singing '99 cans of cola' for the 7th time, and the sun still hadn't risen to give more light, which left them all stumbling in the long grass. Oh, and it appeared that their horse was actually a mule. Not that this last point mattered, but it was simply another thing that Tain had not accounted for. 

Despite all this, he kept them marching, as the sun finally dawned.

"Isn't that beautiful!" exclaimed Peragrine, waving his hand at the rising light. "Do you realize we haven't seen a sunrise like that in years???" he said, directing his words to Tain, who gave a small smile in response. Honestly, he was just glad that the sunrise had stopped the incessant 'cola' song. 

"It's the same sun as it was yesterday," bemoaned Carson. "And actually, since the dawn of time. No pun intended. Can we take a break? Unlike the sun, I can't go on."

Tain didn't think it was necessary to take a break, however, before he could form the words to disagree, Peragrine interrupted. 

"Oh yeah, we should stop a bit, watch the sun rise!"

"Couldn't we do that while walking?" Tain sighed, but Peragrine had stopped walking, and Carson has already flopped down in the grass, neither having apparently heard him. 

Reluctantly, Tain acquiesced and checked on the mule as he waited. 

Meanwhile, Peragrine stood with eyes closed and arms outstretched, feeling the soft warmth of the sun for a few solid minutes. There was still a very chilling breeze, but Peragrine found it all thoroughly glorious and reinvigorating. 

Opening his eyes, he glanced back at Carson, who'd swiped away some of the tall grasses so he could see. He looked bored. Which was to say, he looked in a pretty good mood! 

So Peragrine decided to go sit down next to him.

"Heya, pal!"

Instantly, the bored expression was blown to bits and revealed an annoyed factor of 10. "I'm not your pal. Otherwise, I wouldn't be bound by rope." He raised his tightly-wrapped hands in evidence.

"Hmm. You're right about that!" Peragrine said. "Pals don't tie up pals."

And with that, he raised his hand in a karate chop, before using his magic to burn right through the rope like butter. Exactly like that, actually, as the entire section of rope that was touching Carson or Peragrine's hands melted away into a warm liquid puddle at Carson's feet.

"I dunno about you and Tain, but I like to think we can be friends, Carson." With that, Peragrine beamed a genuine smile, and stood up. "Ready to go?"

Mildly stunned, Carson didn't immediately have a retort. Instead, he rubbed his wrists, and looked back at Tain, who had been watching the two of them intently, but redirected his attention to the mule before he was caught staring.

"See, here's someone reasonable!" the newly freed prisoner yelled.

Tain gave no response, instead focusing on securing the mule's one burlap bag.

Peragrine rolled his eyes good-naturedly, proffering a hand-up to Carson. "C'mon, Carson, let's go."

Carson took it, and they all resumed their pace. Only this time, Carson and Peragrine walked together ahead of Tain and the Mule.

For Tain, the next few hours were quiet and calm. Which was exactly how he preferred it, except now he had to remain vigilant not only for incoming threats, but for outgoing ones. Namely, Carson. However, Peragrine seemed to be sticking very close to the would-be escapee, talking in low tones, acting very friendly with someone who appeared to deflect all basic conversation, except when he was complaining. There were a few times that Carson suggested another rest, but Peragrine would find some way to distract him, which later on in the day consisted of him good-naturedly threatening to numb his feet like he had the small of his back during their escape.

Thankfully, before that threat wore off, Tain caught up to them with provisions for lunch, and since Carson insisted he had to sit down to eat, Peragrine pointed out a small boulder in the distance that rose out of the sea of grass. 

"Let us make for that distant cove!" he yelled like a captain. "Eh? Whad'ya guys think?" he asked, looking back at them. 

Carson groaned and muttered something along the lines of 'if I must', while Tain considered it thoughtfully, before giving confirmation in the form of a single "Sure." 

It did not escape Tain's notice that Peragrine was helping to motivate Carson's forward movement. As Carson began trudging towards the distant goal, Tain made to grab Peragrine's shoulder, but stopped as the young wizard turned to him instead.

"Lookit that, I think that's the fastest he's moved all day!" he exclaimed.

Tain gave a small smile. "Yeah, I..." suddenly he lost what he had about to say.

Peragrine's eyebrows raised in question. "Yeah?"

'Something about appreciation,' thought Tain, desperately trying to remember how he was to finish this conversation. How to get out...!

"Thanks." He deadpanned, before striding off after Carson.

Slightly nonplussed, Perry mentally and physically shrugged before saying "No problemo, Doc!" and taking off after them.

The small boulder in the distance turned out to be a very large one, large enough for all of them to clamber up onto and enjoy their meal. As it was the middle of the day, the sun's heat was at it's apex, and the stone reflected the heat, giving them a slight, but welcome warmth from the ever constant wind, which continually stole through their layers to try and snuff that warmth out.

The meal was void of verbal communication. Tain and Peragrine's tastebuds were still recovering from prison, meaning everything was still so delectable that there was honestly no conversation better than just eating. As for Carson, he'd never done anything as strenuous as what he'd done in the past 3 days, and in a stroke of luck he would never realize, his body had reacted well, giving him a stronger appetite to be better fueled for further adventure. Not that he had anything to talk about with his captors, anyway.

Peragrine and Tain finished rather quickly, while Carson still had yet to finish his meal. As Tain repacked the provisions, he called Peragrine over, out of earshot of Carson.

"Yeah, what's up?" Peragrine asked.

Tain pointed at the strap on the Mule. "Why did you let him loose?"

Peragrine glanced at the strap. It was a leather strap, with a simple buckle, most likely bronze. It looked tight to him... 

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

Tain fiddled with the buckle and motioned to it again. "I'm not talking about the horse. Mule. I'm talking a- Carson." He physically had to restrain himself from pointing at him.

Peragrine's eyes lit up. "Aaaah." He scratched his head as he looked at the buckle. "I let him go because... Well, because it's the right thing to do." Peragrine fiddled with the buckle now, as Tain let his head drop in exasperation.

"He must not escape." He said with conviction. "He will rat us out. All of us."

Peragrine let his head drop now, having finished with the buckle. Looking up at the hors- mule, he patted it comfortingly. "Listen," he said with equal conviction. "He won't escape, I promise. But I don't want him to be a prisoner either. Otherwise, we're no better than the Warden."

Upon hearing this, Tain felt as if something had just slammed a red-hot anvil down his throat. 'I am NOTHING like the Warden!' he wanted to scream. Yet, deep down, he knew he had once been on the same team as him. He had once been a Paradox Rogue...

But not anymore.

"Don't let him out of your sight," Tain concluded.

Peragrine turned around and faced Tain with a strange smile... "Don't worry, Tain. I'm not as young and naive as I let on." He looked up at the sky. "And actually, you're the first person I've ever admitted that to! Wow!" he walked past Tain, slapping him heartily on the shoulder. "Good talk, man, Good talk." Directing his next words to Carson, he hollered, "Heya, slowpoke, now how much longer you've got on that lunch break of yours?!"  

Chapter 2: The Huntress

"Hey look! A town!" Peragrine pointed to the town in question, and Tain followed his gaze.

"That's our destination," he said. "Wishwell." And not a moment too soon. They had made surprisingly good time, and the sun was just beginning to set over their right shoulders, casting the world into evening light. Pretty soon the first stars of the night would shine.

Mrs. Richardson’s description hadn't done the town justice. It was rather small, with a decent-sized mud wall hemming it in entirely, except off to the north, where it connected to a large hill that on one side sloped gently into town, but on the other, was so steep as to form a cliff, which acted as the rest of the town’s wall. Wooden buildings 2 or 3 stories tall rose visibly above the approximately 1 and-a-half-story tall mud wall. 

However, as interesting as the town was, Tain's attention was brought to a thinly forested area to the Northeast, behind the town. From there, he saw a thin column of smoke rising just above the treeline.  It was clearly a controlled fire. Most likely a campfire. Having taken in the view, the group continued down from the rise they had crested, and began walking down the slope, as Tain began to consider how they were going to get into town without being apprehended by the local authorities, who were no doubt already notified of escaped prisoners from Thunderclap....

Suddenly, all three of them noticed a little orange dot bounding through the tall grass toward them. Tain reached for his spear that was on the mule, but Peragrine chuckled. 

“Relax, it’s only a fox.” 

Tain frowned, but he still grabbed the spear. Looking around, he didn’t see any other threats, but he didn’t like how friendly this fox was. It was bounding directly at them. Clearly, something wasn’t natural about it, if it came up to people so readily. As the fox came closer, it barked and sniffed.

Tain didn’t like this at all. He didn't want it to bark and bring attention to their group! It was almost guaranteed that the town guards were looking for them! He raised his spear threateningly, attempting to scare the fox away, but this only served to excite the fox, and it ran up to him, passing Peragrine, who turned to see Tain. “Woah! Woah! Hold on, what are you doing?!” He grabbed the fox bodily, snatching it away from the sharp end of Tain’s spear. In response, the fox slightly clawed Peragrine in warning as it squirmed, trying to free itself.

“He has to shut up,” explained Tain. “We still have to figure out what we’re going to do with Carson, and how we’re going to get into town without being seen.”

“What do you mean, ‘what we’re going to do with me’?” Carson barked, bewildered.

“I don’t trust you to not give us away.”

The fox began yipping even more excitedly now, and this grabbed everyone’s attention, but especially Perry’s. “Huh…?”

The fox was now yipping quietly, staring at a wide-eyed Peragrine.

“Oh great, the kid’s got puppy-love,” Carson groaned.

“It’s talking to me!” he cried out, so surprised that he dropped the fox. “His- oh, whoops. Sorry, Furor.” He looked up at the others. "His name is Furor."

“Oh no, it’s alrighty,” Furor's voice was deep, yet lilting, as it echoed around in Perry’s head.

“Seriously, neither of you hear him?” Peragrine asked the other two men.

Tain shook his head, beginning to realize that Peragrine’s magic probably had something to do with it.

Carson rolled his eyes. “Kid, it’s a fox, yipping and barking up a storm.”

The fox yelped at him for the insult. “I CAN HEAR YOU!!!!!” 

Peragrine translated. “He can understand you, y’know, Carson,” 

“Oh, can he?” Carson grinned wickedly. “The mangy, off-yellow...”

“I CAN UNDERSTAND YOUR WORDS, YOU-”

“...pea-brained MUTT-” 

“-THAT’S FOR DOGS!!”

“-Can understand every word I say?”

“Ohh… YOU TWO LEGGED... MUTT! IF I’M PEA BRAINED, YOU’RE HALF A PEA! MY HEAD IS ACTUALLY MORE APPLE SIZED, BY THE WAY!” Furor tackled Carson, biting and clawing him.

Now Carson was yelping, but not for long as the other two tried to separate them.

“Furor!! Get off!” commanded a new, feminine, voice. All present turned their attention to a new figure. 

She wore a tunic and pants, her light brown hair went a little farther than her shoulders. She looked to be in her late 20’s. Maybe 30s. It was hard to tell since she looked very stressed out as she dismounted from a bay horse, which snorted.

Furor yipped and happily returned to her, while the others scrambled to their feet. Tain also leveled his spear warily.

She walked up to them. “Sorry about that…” She said, petting Furor. “Anything I should know ‘bout these guys, Furor?”

“I and the green-eyed one can talk!” he told her, waving a paw at Peragrine.

She nodded her understanding.

Who are you?” questioned Tain.

“I’m Sara. And in case you didn’t know, this is Furor Fiddlefun.”

“We’ve met,” Carson groused, picking himself up.

“Furor takes things a little too personal…” Apologized Sara.

“Ehhh, you didn’t hear what Carson said,” Peragrine said, wincing apologetically at Furor.

“He deserved every last word and more,” growled Carson, feeling his scratched up face. “I think my nose is broken.”

“I’m sorry, He deserves… a hug from you now.” decided Sara, as Furor hopped out of her arms and onto Carson, hugging him with his tiny forepaws and licking him.

“Gah!” He gently but quickly put the fox back down on the ground. “No, thank you, stay away, you fil- um… you fox.” Furor gave him the puppy look. Peregrine heard the fox admonish Carson with a whine.

“You should feel guilty now.” 

“No, don’t give me that, I’m immune to puppy love. Especially because you’re not a puppy.” groaned Carson.

“We should probably leave these three to do what they have to do, Furor.” Said Sara. “Have a goo-wait.. Don’t tell anyone that you saw me nor give any clues okay?”

Tain shook his head. She probably was some sort of fugitive. Perhaps she could help them...

“Wait, do you live here?” Peragrine asked.

“I used to live in Wishwell… then- nevermind.” Sara said, picking up Furor again. He snuggled close to her.

“Ma’am, is there any other way into town other than the front gate? I’d rather not be seen by thedude’s forces, but we need supplies for a long journey.” Normally, Tain wouldn’t be so blunt, but by her attire, and the way she handled the fox, he could tell she had been living rough for quite some time. Hopefully, that meant she didn’t have many friends in town to gossip with.

Sara considered them carefully. “So.. you’re against technology?”

“Huh?” “Pardon?” “Um, what?” Tain, Perry and Carson were nonplussed in this sudden shift.

“I said what I said and you know what I said.”

Peragrine tilted his head. “I heard what you said, and I know what you said, but what you said doesn’t make sense with what I’m thinking.”

“And how is she supposed to know what you’re thinking, idiot?” Carson.

“I’m not,” Sara answered. “I suppose I’d have to go into detail to explain…” She paused, before apparently deciding something in her head. “I lived in Wishwell my whole life… My parents, Franklyn and Laura were in the army and fought in the Grammar war, but… They died in that battle. Ever since, I’ve… Had a harder life, you could say.”

“Did I ask for your life’s story?” muttered Carson, but no one appeared to hear him as Sara continued.

“A couple years later, thedude sent a mayor  to make sure we did things his way, but some of us disagreed. However, I was the only one who was willing to do anything about it. Ever since, I’ve been wanted by the Parodox rogues and thedude’s forces, since I didn’t accept what they were doing to our town. I had to move out and.. I lived life in the forest. I’ve been living in the forest for around 14 years.”

“Why haven’t you moved away?” Peragrine asked, entirely captured by her story.

“I can’t let Wishwell fall.”

“To what?” scoffed Carson. “Technology?”

Sara frowned, her brow knitting together deeply. "Yes, exactly, how can you not see that?"

"See what?" Peragrine asked.

“DON’T YOU SEE!” she exploded, taking them all aback. “WHEN HE GETS TECHNOLOGY EVERYWHERE HE’S GONNA TAKE OVER AND DESTROY US ALL!”  

Furor yipped in agreement.

Tain shook his head. None of this had anything to do with them. “Can you get us into the town?” 

“Why should I? You’re just like the rest of them!” she cried, throwing her hands up. Furor fell out of her arms with a surprised yelp.

Tain’s gaze dropped. Clearly, she was a fanatic. If she could help, it would take a lot of work to find out. Taking the mule’s lead rope, he began to walk past her, towards the nearest group of trees. He needed to detain Carson before they went into town, and the trees in the distance would provide cover and a safe anchor to tie him up. Ironically, Carson scoffed at Sara and followed.

“Wait, Tain, where you going?” Perry called.

Before they had gone too far away, Sara sighed before she called after them. “Wait… I'm headed into town later today anyway. If you want to come with me, you need to tell me what you are.  You’ll need a disguise, and I'm pretty much the only one who can provide one."

Tain stopped and half-turned back towards Sara. "I am against thedude. I have nothing against technology, except when it is advancing thedude's cause."

Sara looked back at him, stopping. "It always is." Then she swung up onto her horse with practiced ease and began riding slowly towards the forest, just a bit ahead of the others.

“C’MON GUYS!” she called after them.

“Whadd’ya have in mind, Sara, you fantastic lady?” Peragrine called.

She gave him a look. “Uhh. We’ll see.”

The fox barked, outpacing all of them. and Peragrine laughed at what he’d apparently said.

“Silly boy!” Giggled Sara at Furor, who was quickly little more than an orange dot bounding through the tall grass.

As Peragrine passed by Tain and Carson, Tain caught his attention, and he slowed down. The three of them huddled briefly as Sara slowed down, looking back.

“Perry, be careful. I don’t trust her. There’s a reason why she’s not allowed in town. While it may be true she’s against thedude, I think she may be more dangerous than she looks.”

Peragrine raised an eyebrow, but had to admit there was some truth to it when Carson added, “Uh, DUH, she’s got a feral animal as a pet, and it viciously attacked me!”

“I’m right here y’know. I can hear you, and Furor isn't my pet by choice."

The three turned around to look at her. Tain couldn’t make eye contact, instead focusing on Carson and Perry. “Are we clear?”

Peragrine nodded for Tain’s benefit, but focused on Sara, giving a big smile. “Sorry, Sara. We’re a tight group, and we like to be on the same page. Didn’t mean to exclude ya’.” Waving a hand, he finished with “Lead the way!”

Sara nodded and continued on, looking back to make sure she didn’t outpace them.

“ ‘Tight-knit group’, my foot.” Carson muttered.

Sara stopped. “You alright, Carson? That's your name, right?”

Momentarily surprised at being noticed, Carson looked up at her and waved her off halfheartedly. "Yeah, yeah. Lead the way, crazy lady."

Sara shrugged. "Well, you could say that."

Chapter 3: Proper Attire

Eventually, they reached the shadows of the thinly forested area.

Sara began walking. “We should be there in around 5 minutes.” Sara finally said after a lot of silence.

Tain began looking around for a suitable place to leave the mule and Carson. Or maybe just Carson.

After a few minutes they finally reached a campsite. It consisted of a large, well-laid campfire with a spit, a tough leather tent, and a wash bin and clothesline, with plenty of clothing drying in the soft breeze. 

“We’re here.” said Sara, dismounting the horse.” Any specific requests?”

“For a disguise?” Tain asked. “Anything that will blend in.”

Sara handed Tain a tunic and some regular boots. “As a disguise. Peragrine, Carson?”

The two came up to the clothesline and considered.

“Never thought I’d see the day where I was looking at woman’s clothing for myself,” Carson muttered.

Peragrine heard him and laughed. “Unfortunately, I can’t say it would be my first time.”

“Don’t worry. I sewed and knitted most of this, and I’ve never been good at making a very tight fit,” assured Sara.

Peragrine pulled down a leather overcoat dyed a deep forest green. “Saaay. This is nice!”

“It's all yours! But you’ll need something to go with it…” Sara handed him some rather large boots which where a bit scratched up.”

“Why do you have so many boots!” Peragrine exclaimed, happily taking them and kicking off his poulaines.

“Someone like me does a lot of rough terrain walking. Also, Do you even know how much bears think that my boots are tasty?”

“Both excellent points.”

Meanwhile, Carson had picked out a warm and cozy padded cotton shirt, some simple shoes that any townsperson would wear, and some very thick, more modern sweatpants.

“Nice!” said Sara as she fed the horse some oats. “By the way, this is Arrow.”

Tain spared a glance for the horse, before tying up the mule and going behind the tree to dress.

Peragrine was a bit more enthusiastic. “Oh, hello, Arrow!” he crooned as he slipped the overcoat on. As he did, he felt like a million bucks. It was somewhat tight, having presumably been fitted for Sara, but he loved it.

“You alright, Peragrine?”

He stretched experimentally. The old leather didn't’ squeak or chafe in the least. “Sara, this is perfect. Are you sure I don’t owe you anything?”

“I’m sure. We’ll have to go in teams of two, Arrow can only fit two," she said as she mounted Arrow.

“So, then, you do know another way in,” Tain said as he stumbled from behind the tree, and the Mule. He was fighting with his tunic.

“Yes, I do. It’s dangerous though. But very fun!”

Peragrine nearly guffawed as he pointed at Sara. “Tain, this gal is awesome!” He turned back to her. “Is it more fun or dangerous than escaping Thunderclap Prison???”

Tain, having finally pulled the tunic on, facepalmed.

Sara looked at him. “What did you d- nevermind. I am glad to say I wouldn't know."

Carson laughed harshly. “HA! Ha, ha, ha, Peragrine, you and your fat mouth. You just admitted to being a wanted convict!”

Peragrine blushed.

“Hey!” Sara leaned forward. “What about me? I'm wanted too! We're so alike!" Sara smiled conspiratorially. 

Carson shoved his hands into his new pockets. “Whatever.”

Tain considered her for a moment, making sure this didn’t change how she would act, but when he realized she considered herself one of them- that is, a convict- he was immensely relieved. Tain motioned to the Mule. “He could carry another person.”

“We should probably get focused, who’s going with who?” Sara said.

“I’d like to go with you, Sara!” Peragrine said.

Carson glared at Tain. “Well, I’m not going with him.”

Tain looked back at Carson, but seeing him glaring, he refocused back to Perry. “You’re not going anywhere, Carson. You’re staying here. I already told you, I don’t trust you to not rat us out to the first person we come across.”

Sara stared down from Arrow, confused. 

“Well, then why don’t you stay with Carson here, Tain? I can get the supplies with Sara, and we’ll be back in a jiffy!” Peragrine suggested.

Tain pondered this. While he did personally want to get the correct supplies, he firstly didn’t want Carson to escape. Otherwise none of the other planning mattered; they would be heading back to Thunderclap before they would know it.

“Alright, Peragrine. We’ll need two horses, some bedrolls, replenished provisions-”

Peragrine raised two placating hands. “Tain, Tain, buddy. I know what to get. Not my first road trip.”

He frowned, uncertain. But after a final thought, he agreed.  “But, be careful, Peragrine,” he added, shifting his eyes to Sara for a brief moment.

Peragrine nodded, understandingly. 

Carson sighed loudly. “Great. So instead of being stuck with him while he shops, I’m stuck with him here while he paces around like a worried mother hen.”

“Ya’ can’t win them all, buddy!” Perry offered, as he swung himself up behind Sara on Arrow.

“Let’s go, Peragrine.” Arrow began galloping out of the forest.

Chapter 4: The Secret Way:

As Sara and Peragrine rode Arrow out of the forest, Peragrine realized that Furor was on her shoulder looking at him.

“Oh! The fox comes into town too?”

“He travels with me everywhere, Peragrine.”

“Wow, so sorta like a familiar.”

“You could say that... But he follows people because he likes to sight-see."

Peragrine nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Makes sense.”

Sara quickly changed the subject to something she was very curious about. “ Why were you so persistent to come with me?”

“I was persistent?” 

“Sorta kinda.”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I’d rather go into town than have to wait…?” said Peragrine. “Plus, you’re super cool.” 

“Thanks.” Furor jumped over to Peragrine; nearly blowing away because of their speed. He patted the fox’s head as it curled up between the two people, hiding from the wind.

Arrow came to a sudden stop.

“We’re here.” Sara dismounted next to a small cavern carved out of the sheer side of the hill that Peragrine and Tain had seen earlier when they’d first arrived. 

Sara led Arrow into the cavern. Inside, it had the basic amenities of a stable, including a trough filled with water, and a small haybale. Furor jumped off of Arrow. Sara offered a hand to help Peragrine get off of Arrow because there was no saddle or stirrup, and he gladly took it.

“What a convenient cave!” 

“Yup.” Sara placed down Furor to guard and she walked out and closed a gate after Peragrine came out.

“So, what’s our path, fraught with peril?”

Sara shouldered a length of rope and pointed to the left of the cave’s entrance. West. “That way. We’ll reach the beginning of Wishwell’s wall, and we’ll climb above it with this,” she said, motioning to the rope. “Normally I do it freehand, but I don’t know how well your climbing ability is, so I’m bringing this, just in case.”

Peragrine frowned. “Well, that’s not very perilous!”

Sara smiled dangerously. “Oh no, the dangerous part begins once we’re inside Wishwell!”

Peragrine raised an eyebrow, but quickly had to run to keep up with her and Furor, as they followed the rocky hillside around to the Eastern side of the town.

In no time at all, Sara slowed down and began studying the cliffside next to them.

“I though you said we were scaling the wall?” Peragrine asked. 

“We are, but sometimes there are guards on the mudwall, so we have to climb above the wall and them, which means we start here, and climb up and above them and the wall.” she explained as she fiddled with the rope.

Peragrine looked up. “So, we’ll be climbing sorta diagonally?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm.” Eyeing the cliffside again, he considered if he was up to the challenge. Ideally, he’d say it was no problem, but it’d been awhile since he’d done any climbing, having just escaped prison, and this climbing surface had a lot of soft soil, which didn’t make for very solid footing. Still, he was willing to give it a shot, especially with rope!

“How many times have you done this?” he asked.

“Countless times!” Sara assured him, as she threw her finished lasso up into the air. A few moments later, rope rained down all over them. “... Without the rope,” she reminded him. She though for a moment. "Once, a while back, I fell from WAYYYY up there. Good luck." She gave a discouraging smile, as a joke.

Peragrine chuckled.

It would be getting dark soon. The sun was no longer visible to them from below the low rolling hills all around them, but sunlight still hit the upper edges of the cliff face, far above where they intended to climb.

“What are you aiming for?” Peragrine asked.

“It’s hard to see unless you know what you’re looking at, but there’s a little hook I hammered in a long time ago, somewhere around 30 feet, which is where we’ll want to start moving left,” she said. She threw again, and this time the rope snagged. “Aha, got it!”

After pulling to make sure it was tight, she began scampering up the rope with expert skill. Peragrine followed suit, albeit a tad slower. A few minutes later, Sara reached the hook. Letting go of the rope, she waited for Peragrine, who was only a moment behind. 

“Ok, I need you to get off the rope now, so we can pull up the other end.

Peragrine nodded. “Okay… Let me just find a good handhold…”

“Use the hook, and put your foot over there on that rock.”

Peragrine followed her directions, and was soon free of the rope. 

“Great, now we need to pull the end of the rope up, and I’ll take that to another hook, and then you’ll be able to use it to climb along that way. Hopefully the coming darkness will make sure no one looks up and notices us.”

Carefully, with one hand each, they hefted the length of rope up till Sara was able to grab the end of it, and tuck it into her belt. 

“Okay. Hold on, I’ll be right back.” 

“No problem, I’ll just be hanging out here. Chillin’.” Peragrine quipped. 

Sara scurried away with uncanny speed along the cliffside, and soon she was around the bend, out of sight. Peragrine glanced down at the ground below. It wasn’t too far away, he’d probably survive if he fell. Not that he intended to, but his arms were burning, and his hands were freezing. He wondered if Sara intended to leave this way too… Well, he probably wouldn’t be, since he and Tain needed horses for their trip. Hopefully Sara had a plan for that, but if not, Peragrine was certain that leaving a town was always much easier than entering one. He’d had plenty of experience in that in his life, let alone his latest adventure leaving Thunderclap keep only the other day! 

He looked out at the horizon, as the sun gave it’s last hurrah for the day, surrendering to the night. From where he hung, Peragrine couldn’t see the moon, but seeing as how dark it was, he was willing to bet there wasn’t much of one, if any. Or maybe it was being covered by cloud. There were still a few of those from the storm the night before.

The sound of Sara’s return interrupted Peragrine’s pointless musings. “Peragrine, are you here?”

“Yup. Still hanging.”

“Good. Use the rope, come with me, we’re almost there.” 

Chapter 5: Into Wishwell

As they went over the wall, and the town came into view, Sara began muttering to herself.

“This isn’t right… “

“What do you mean?”

“There’s… We’re too late…” 

As she looked down at the town, Perry could tell she was pretty much terrified. He followed her gaze, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The town below seemed quiet and peaceful. Lights shone out of house windows, and the occasional small car puttered along the well-lit main street. “I don’t see the issue…?”

Sara withdrew a weapon from her back, that Perry had not noticed before. It appeared to be a short, double-bladed-dagger of a type.

“Hey, fancy!” Peragrine crowed. “But, still, what’s the big hullabaloo?”

Sara stared at him for a second. Then she jumped down to the rooftop of one of the taller buildings. 

With a mental shrug, Peragrine leapt after her. “Geronimo!” he thought to himself.

Unfortunately, he did not land as gracefully as Sara, and crashed right through the roof.

Sara would normally giggle a bit, but she was anything but in the mood. She jumped down off the building.

“I’m ok!” came Perry’s voice.

When Sara landed, she left Peragrine behind and went straight to a specific house and knocked three times. Then four. And lastly, another three.

A person answered. Without a word they let her in.  Inside, there was only candlelight from its source on a large table in the middle of the room. There were chairs all around it, and a number of people hid in the shadows on the edge of the light.

“It’s about time, Sara!” said one voice, sounding young and masculine.

“They didn’t send this shipment to the mayor, it came with it’s own construction crew, and they set it up all in one day!” another voice whimpered, over the sound of frantic knitting.

“That was Friday. Three days ago.” a third voice grumbled. 

“Anything else I should know, Steven?” Sara asked.

The grumbler replied. “There’s too many lights to destroy one by one. We need a way to get rid of them all at once. Now, we have a plan, but you might not like it.”

“Build a giant thing of water and knock it down? I’m all for it.”

“Oh heavens no!” cried the elderly woman with the knitting sounds. “That would wash out tons of the town with it!”

“Take a look here,” said the young voice that had let Sara in. A young man set a metal orb on the table. “This is something I created from scrap. It’s called an EMP bomb. It’ll burn out all technology in its radius. Now, the idea is, since I only was able to make one, we get this into the small power-station they’ve set up, and blow that up. From there, it will cause a cascade failure in all of the lights all over town, and they’ll be back to square one!”

“Sorry, Yarnell. I can’t. Its technology.” Sara said.

“I told you she wouldn’t go for it, Yarnell,” growled Steven. 

“But, Sara, it’s using tech against itself! And it leaves no tech afterwards!” 

“It’s still using it,” Sara frowned. “I won’t do it.”

“But-” began Yarnell.

“Your other option, Sara,” interrupted Steven, “Is to go to the Power Station, and find some way to destroy it yourself, but without the EMP bomb, it won’t destroy all of the lights all around town. They’ll find ways to power them up individually or in batches sooner rather than later.”

Sara paused, half listening as the others began arguing different ideas… Finally, she broke in.

“No. That’s it. Enough is enough. This needs to end.” Sara looked around the table at her in-town contacts, half-hidden in shadows. She wished she could call them friends, but they just didn’t understand each other…

“What are you going to do, Sara?” came the elderly woman’s voice.

“Mrs. Berreto, I’m going to pay the Mayor a visit. Tonight.”

~~~~~

“I’m ok!” Peragrine yelled, getting up from his crash landing. Thankfully, he’d landed in a large stack of cardboard boxes filled with… shoes? As he got up, he heard footsteps coming up to what he recognized as an attic of some type. Not wanting to have to explain his name and business, Peragrine scrambled to get out of sight, and in the process, made a much bigger mess. Not a moment too soon, he fell behind more boxes, just as someone came up the stairs on the other side of the room. 

“Oh my lands, what happened here?!” yelled a man.

“I don’t know!” Peragrine blurted from his hiding spot. In hindsight, he realized he should have stayed quiet. 

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?!” yelled the man to the supposedly empty room. “It’s a mess in here!”

There was a brief silence as Peragrine considered what to do next. He heard the man sigh. “An’ don’t tell me it was raccoons again.”

“What if I promise it was an accident, and help clean up?” Peragrine suggested.

“Hmm. Well, it’d be a start.”

Peragrine peeped out from behind his cover, and saw a man in brown overalls. He had stains all over it, and a few tools hung from pockets and loops on him. His hair was thin and grey, and he generally looked like a grump.

Stepping out, Peragrine said, “Here I am!”

“Gaugh!” the man reacted, pulling back. “Where did you come from?”

Peragrine pointed at the hole in the roof.

“Oh.”

“But I promised I’d clean up, and so I will!”

The old man scratched his head, but quickly conceded. “Alright. But it better look just like it did yesterday!”

“How was that?”

“Spotless, and without that hole in the roof.”

Peragrine gave a thumbs-up. “No problem!”

The man nodded, muttering to himself as he went back downstairs.

“Well! That couldn’t have gone better!” Peragrine decided. However, before he could start, he heard a bell downstairs ring, and Sara’s voice drifted up.

"Hello, Ronald. Have you seen Peragrine?”

“Is that the strange kid in my attic, Sara?” the old man said. “He made a mess of my cobbler shop, and he promised he would clean it up!”

“Okay, thanks!” a few footsteps later, and Sara’s head popped up into the attic. 

“Peragrine, when did you get so many shoes?” she joked.

He shrugged, smiling. “You can never have too many shoes, or so they say.”

Sara laughed. “Let’s go get supplies.”

Peragrine shook his head. “First I’ve gotta clean this mess up.”

“That’ll take forever!” Sara groaned, even as she began assessing how best to clean it up. “It’s not like we have magic or something.”

“Aaactually… “ Peragrine grinned as he twirled a finger. 

Sara raised an eyebrow, as first one, then two, then four, and then many more shoes began to ‘walk’ around, gathering themselves up into overturned boxes. In between it all, Peragrine began moving his arms around as if directing traffic.

“I hope your friend downstairs didn’t have this organized, or anything,” he said.

“Soo first, lights all over town, next, my contacts all arguing about terrible plans, EMP bombs, and now magic. I’ve seen everything tonight.”

Peragrine spared her a glance. She looked really stressed out. “And we’ve only just arrived!” he quipped. 

She gave a small smile, but he could tell she was still thinking about all the things she had to do. Whatever that was. He was only here for supplies. Well, that, and help, if he could.

“One thing I don’t think I can do with magic is patch that hole,” he said, pointing at the hole, and accidentally sending a boot out of it.

“Oops.” 

A cat yowled in the distance.

“Careful, Peregrine. There’s mice in here, don’t send any of them flying.” Sara laughed.

Having finished re-packing the boxes, some of them having been crushed and then reformed by Perry, he considered the splintered wood and the hole. “Any ideas?”

“Ye- Why did you have to tell your friends we would be back in a jiffy?!”

Peragrine shrugged. “I always say that! Plus, Tain likes to worry, and assuring him I’ll be back soon alleviates it a bit!”

She nodded. “We’ll put bear skins down until we can get a construction crew over here, how’s that?”

“You have an extra bearskin on you?” Peragrine asked.

“Nope but I will! Stall for me please!” Sara went outside through the hole.

~~~

A few minutes later, Sara returned from the cave-stable that Arrow was at, with a bear skin and a few nails. Inside, she found Peragrine and Ronald the Cobbler talking downstairs over some late tea. 

Sara went back up without disturbing them and put the bear skins on top with the nails. Then she headed downstairs.

“All fixed,” she announced. Only Peragrine turned around to look at her, as the old cobbler had fallen asleep in his chair.

“Awesome!” Peragrine whispered. “Thanks a ton.” Getting up, he set aside both cups of tea, and joined Sara as they stepped outside. “Ronald was really helpful, telling me where I should go to get everything I need. Though I’m sure you could have told me too.” he amended.

Sara shrugged. “Perhaps, but I’m glad you made friends with him, anyway.”

“Yeah, he’s a reall- woah!” exclaimed Peragrine as Sara yanked him out of the road and down a dark alley. She held her hand over his mouth as a spearman walked by with a flashlight.

“This way, Peragrine. We don’t want to be seen by the night patrols.” Sara pointed up a service ladder. “To the rooftops.”

Peragrine nodded. “Thanks, that was a close one.”

When they were at the rooftop of the cobbler’s shop, Sara looked off of the edge.

“Have you ever jumped off roofs before?”

Peragrine nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes. I have lots of experience roof-running.

“Awesome! PREPARE YOURSELF!” Sara jumped off the roof heading further into town.

Chapter 6: The Perfect Steed

The two made their way through the town via Sara’s stealthy routes. They would make their way into a shop, grab their supplies, and Sara would leave her payment in place of the merchandise. Sometimes this was coin, other times it was barter. As for Peragrine, who did not have any money, Sara helped him with a few purchases, but ultimately he was stealing, and they both knew it.

“I’ll make it up to these folks, I swear,” Peragrine said to himself. “As soon as I can.”

“Don’t worry, Peragrine,” Sara assured him. “I can repay them. Plus, you and your friends will be leaving soon.”

“Aww, that’s really sweet, Sara, but it’s no fair to you!” he replied.

“I’m used to it, Peragrine. You shouldn’t have to worry about my town. You and your group seem busy.”

He shrugged. “Not that busy… Yet.”

Soon enough, they had gathered multiple packs well-stocked with their respective supplies. It was time to get some horses. 

Jumping from a nearby roof into some hay-bales, Sara picked the lock to the barn doors.  Once through, she searched around with the help of a convenient lantern, looking for a good long distance traveler among the horses. “How’s this little guy, Peragrine?” Sara showed him a brown thoroughbred stallion. 

Peragrine ambled over. It was a strong looking fellow, on the smaller side, with a bright attentive gaze.

“Yeah. This one’s perfect for Tain.”

Sara looked at the golden metal nameplate on the stall door “The nameplate says its name is Cooper.”

The horse nickered in response to it’s name. 

“It seems really smart for a horse that’s for sale. Are you sure it’s for sale?” Peragrine asked.

Sara checked for any identification, but other than the nameplate, there was none. “I think he’s a courier. You know, a messenger’s horse. We could check for his tack, in the tack room, to be sure.”

Peragrine grinned. “That would be perfect. ‘Steal from thedude, give to the, uh, poor?’”

“Penniless, would be more accurate.” mocked Sara, smiling.

Peragrine shrugged as he inspected the other horses. “Alas, only too true!” His eyes alit on a shaggy, blue-eyed horse, also of a shorter stature. “What do you think of this one?”

Sara came over with her lantern and read the nameplate. “Pablo.” They both looked up at the horse, who stared back at them. Pablo was, in both mood and appearance, much like a dairy cow. Vacant stare, black and white splotches, and fat.

“No,” they both said, turning to other candidates. 

“Here’s an idea!” Peragrine exclaimed. “Do you think the Mayor’s horse is here?”

Sara considered as she scanned the stalls. “Yeah, probably.” Sara walked over to a Speckled Blue Roan Arabian mare. “Yuuuuup! Right over here.” Sara looked at the nameplate. “I’m certainly gonna have to get naming advice from Mayor Guy!” The Arabian looked up from it’s feed, surprised at Sara’s appearance. Then, as Peragrine came up behind Sara, the horse gave out a whinny. Sara stepped aside so Peragrine could see.

“ ‘Betsy?’ “ Peragrine read the plate. “That is a pretty name.”

The horse eyed Peragrine warily.

“Hullo, Betsy!” he said. The horse nickered and backed up away from Sara and the lantern. Her dark coat seemed to meld with the shifting shadows in the back of her stall.

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. But do you want to go for a ride?” 

“Peragrine!! Do you know how menacing that sounds?!” Sara interrupted jokingly.

“Not to a horse!” Peragrine defended. 

Sara laughed.

The horse tiptoed closer as Peragrine refocused on her.  

“I’m going on a long trip, and I don’t know when I’ll be back here, but I promise it will be very exciting, and you’ll see lots of new places. Plus, you won’t be cooped up here…”

“Peragrine, you’ll need to be gentle with her. The Mayor stays in his house all the time. She hasn’t been ridden in a very long time.” Sara informed him.

Peragrine nodded, entirely focused on Betsy, who was slowly coming back up to the door. “Alright. Sounds good. Doesn’t that sound good, Betsy?” The horse nickered a warning upon hearing it’s name, but Peragrine continued to talk in soft tones, while Sara drifted off to look at the other horses. 

She thought they were very beautiful animals. A dapple grey, looking very thin, nickered and put his head up to see if Sara had a snack. Sara peeked in to the stall and saw something that astounded her. There was a sticky note on an empty feed bucket, reading NOT TO BE FED. Sara looked at the poor Stallion’s face, half of which appeared to be scarred by some old injury. She looked at the nameplate, ‘Typhoon’ was its name.

“Don’t worry, Typhoon, I’ll be right back.”

Passing Peragrine and Betsy, who appeared to be having a conversation of some sort, she went into the tack room, grabbed a sack of grain, and hefted it back to the horse.

At the sight of the bag Typhoon pranced excitedly. Letting herself in, Sara cut open the bag, and Typhoon began scarfing it down directly from it. Smiling, Sara shrugged to herself. “I was going to put it in the trough, but I guess this wouldn’t hurt you either."

Now that she was inside the stall with it, Sara noticed multiple scars all along Typhoon’s body. Tracing them with her eyes, she noted how it followed the horse’s skeletal anatomy.

“What were they doing to you, you majestic creature?” The horse eyed her gratefully. It seemed like he was saying, ‘Thank you, thank you!’

Sara heard another stall door opening, and peeking out, she saw Peragrine leading both horses, Cooper and Betsy, to the tack room. 

Turning back to Typhoon, she sighed. “Sorry, boy, but I can’t have you eat the whole bag, or you-” 

The horse screamed, as it reared up. Sara pulled out a plain dagger from her belt. “Typhoon, what’s wrong buddy?”

The horse’s head whipped around, and Sara saw something truly despicable. One side of the horse’s face was glowing cherry red, as if there was something underneath it’s skin.

“PERAGRINE, COME OVER HERE!” She yelled as she vaulted over the door. 

With Typhoon’s scream, panic overtook the entire stables, and multiple other horses began screaming bloody murder as well.  Peragrine shot out of the tack room with the two chosen horses, only partly ready.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

“TYPHOON’S EEEEEEVIL!”

“Who?”

Suddenly, Typhoon bucked the stall door off it’s hinges, and it flew across the aisle, into the stall across, Pablo’s.

“TEAAPHOOOOON!!!” Sara screamed, pointing.

Peragrine followed her direction, and saw the ‘Typhoon’ in question. The creature’s whole right side was glowing cherry red, and the one remaining natural eye on the left was rolling in agony.

“Oh my stars…” Peragrine began.

“I should have never given him food.” Sara said starting to calm down.

Peragrine dropped both the horse’s halters, and reached out with his magic towards the furious beast. He quickly understood what was happening.

“They’ve made you a cyborg!” he realized. “Just like Burnie…!” 

While Peragrine stood there, with his arms outstretched and eyes closed, Typhoon was rearing and kicking, while Sara evaded him, and ran towards Peragrine, catching Betsy and Cooper before they ran. She glanced back at Peragrine, hoping he could help with his magic.

Thinking fast, Peragrine felt the energy contained within Typhoon’s cyborg frame, and attempted to pull the energy out of it. Turn it off. Shut it down! TAKE THE BATTERIES OUT, MAN!

Sara saw the effect immediately. The evil eye shut down, and now that Sara had seen it activated, she could see what she had mistaken for a scarred eye was actually a mechanized one. She ran to Typhoon and began to pet him, and he trembled under her touch. 

Meanwhile, Peragrine was still standing. In his mind’s eye, he still held a large ball of energy in front of him. But what to do with it? 

Suddenly, his focus was broken by the stable doors being thrown open on the far side.

“What in the blazes is going on h-” began a guard, before they were all blown away in a sizable explosion rendered by Peragrine and the ball of Typhoon’s energy.

Peragrine snagged Betsy and Cooper’s halters, before running forward to the blown open doors. “Come on, Sara! We’ve got to go now!” 

Sara led a very weak Typhoon after Peragrine. However, she had barely gotten him out of the stable, when he stumbled and collapsed into the dirt.

“Typhoon? You alright?” Sara knelt down next to the horse. He was shivering , and terribly cold to the touch. “Peragrine, can you watch him for a second?”

Peragrine stopped, a few yards ahead already. Turning back, he blinked, and he saw that Typhoon’s energy, his life force, was a dreadfully small flicker compared to his actual physical size.

“What do you have planned?” Peragrine asked, as he looked around worriedly.

“Getting a crazy friend named Yarnell who has a EMP bomb!” she said.

“What?!”

However, as soon as she disappeared into the shadows, guards, including some Paradox Rouges, came from around the corner, and upon seeing Peragrine with three loose horses, as well as the blown out stables, they attacked. Peragrine had no choice but to stand and defend himself and the horses and his supplies. . .

Chapter 7: Messy Getaway.

Sara sped back to the meeting place, leaping from roof to roof. She hated to use Yarnell's awful technology idea now, but a life hung in the balance. Hopefully, she thought, she could use the EMP bomb to disable the technology inside Typhoon. She held back her revulsion. Putting electronics inside that helpless creature…! ‘When does it end?!’ she thought.

‘Not tonight’ she realized. ‘The town's going to come alive very soon with us escaping...’ 

Landing on the roof of the meeting place, she burst through an open window to find Mrs. Berreto knitting. 

“Where is Yarnell, and his awful bomb?”

Mrs. Berreto pointed out the room and across the hallway. Sara rushed past her with a quick “Thanks,” and found Yarnell asleep in his bed.

“Yarnell! Wake up!” Said Sara as she shook him.

“Wha? Huh? AHH!” he cried. “What are you doing here?!”

“Do you still have the EMP bomb?”

Still barely awake, Yarnell motioned to his desk, were, among many other technological marvels half assembled, the EMP bomb sat.

Sara’s eyes widened as she looked at it, then looked back. “Can I use it? A Cyborg needs saving.”

Yarnell rolled his eyes. “Of course you want to use my idea now,” he muttered.

“Yarnell, A cyborg horse’s life is at stake!! It’s been tortured all its life!”

“A Cyborg what?” Yarnell began. Then he shook his head. “Nevermind. Just take it. Press the green button and the lights will count down 10 fast seconds, and then everything in about 3 yards will fry.”

“Thank you!!! I’ll be back to tell you a long story!!” Sara jumped out a window with the EMP bomb.

As quick as a squirrel, Sara bounded back across the rooftops to the Stables, but once she arrived, there was no one there.

Only wreckage, which left a trail leading down the road.

“They must have had to fight, and the battle went this way…”  Sara sprinted along the road, not caring about being seen now. There were wounded soldiers and rogues here and there, and though she wasn’t happy to see people hurt, she was also glad that there didn't appear to be any townsfolk in the street, and that Peragrine and the horses were not captured. 

She followed the destruction all the way to the main gate, where the damage gave her chills.

There was absolutely no semblance of the small mud gate anymore. Only a circular crater cut into the dirt, and the walls on either side. There were scorch marks everywhere, and there were over a dozen Paradox rogues and guards lying all about the area. One Paradox member, a Sorcerer, stood up with help from his staff. 

“Halt, Sara Pineword!” he yelped. “You- Gah!” he clutched his burnt right side.

“That's Pinewood to you!” 

The Sorcerer painfully limped forward. “You… are under arrest… for crimes against-”

Sara brought out her double bladed dagger and pointed it at him. “I won’t come with you. I’m just trying to protect this town.”

“A real good job you’re doing of it,” the rogue said, motioning to the ‘gate’.

"That’s not what I protect. I protect the people. That what makes a town, a town. thedude WILL betray you in the end. He’ll destroy everyone who refuses to serve him and torture the rest!  Even if I’m in a jail cell I will do whatever I have to in order to end this all!"

The Sorcerer straightened up, visibly in pain, but pride shining through his features. “And I… will do everything in my power to stop you.” Turning to others in his group, he added, “And I’m not alone. What about you?”

“I’m not.” Sara gave a long, sharp whistle, and stabbed him.

The others leapt at her, but she quickly evaded, backing away. It was 4 on 1, and more were getting up all around her, recovering from their wounds. She slowly backed away, wondering how she could stall them… as they slowly cornered her in…  

“Come on, guys, she’s only one!” said a regular guard with a sword.

“We’ve got three blasters trained on your head, Sara,” said a Marauder. “Don’t try anything funny, or I might ‘forget’ that the Mayor wants you alive… “

"Good to know! Thank you."

The Marauder seemed to pause and consider. “Hmm. Might be worth it. I hate this stupid posting anyway.”

“Hey, watch it,” said one of the town garrison. “This ‘stupid posting’ is where I grew up.”

“I grew up here too. When it was a nice medieval town. But then you guys ruined it.” Sara added, annoyed that they sympathized over everyone ELSE that grew up here.

The marauder suddenly yelled and fired, hitting Sara in the left shoulder before she could duck. However, she still did, and two more shots and a thrown knife appeared in the wall where her head had been. Rushing forward and going low, she tripped them and got in between them all, where they couldn’t shoot her.

“You guys can torture me all you want. I’ll keep trying and keep winning.”

Suddenly, amid the ensuing chaos, Arrow and Furor arrived, having heard her whistle. Sara fought her way through to Arrow and mounted, galloping out into the field, rapidly outpacing the blaster fire of her enemies, and made her way back to camp, with the first light of the not quite visible sun.

Chapter 8: Twisted Surgery

“Tain, Carson?!” said Sara as she, Arrow and Furor galloped into the camp. There they were, all three of her guests, as well as the horses. Tain and Peragrine were inspecting Typhoon by lantern-light, as he lay down. Carson was tied to a long rope, where he sat and stared at all the other horses tied to other trees on the other side of the camp.

Sara leapt off Arrow, rolled, and regaining her feet, she cried, ”EVERYONE, STEP 3 YARDS AWAY FROM TYPHOON!” Sara threw the EMP-bomb at Typhoon, as everyone else, including the horses moved away from her and Typhoon in alarm.

‘CRZZZZZACK!’ The sound echoed throughout the forest, causing all of the birds to take off for fear of their lives. In the camp, Tain and Peragrine were blown back, mostly unharmed, if a bit frizzy. 

However, for Typhoon, the consequences lasted a bit longer. He emitted a low scream, more like a bellow, and his cyborg right side erupted in sparks and lights. 

“SARA, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Peragrine cried, rushing forward into the electrical firestorm with his eyes glowing green.

“My friend, Yarnell, invented a thing called an E.M.P. Bomb! He says it fries ALL technology within 3 yards! He originally made it to save the town, but right now, this is more urgent! I thought it might fry his electrical side! 

The sparks had died down, and now Peragrine and Typhoon were locked in some sort of silent conversation. The horse stared at Peragrine, and Peragrine’s eyes were closed.

Tain and Carson stood off to the side, both stunned. But Tain snapped out of it first.

“He needs that technology to survive,” he said, staring at the horse in question. 

“I know for sure that he doesn’t need the evil side!!!” Sara snapped. ”I never thought I’d say this but, who knows how to handle technology?”

“Tain, I need your help!” Peragrine suddenly barked. 

Tain froze for a moment, before stepping forward. “What is it, Peragrine?”

“Do you know anything about Paradox Tech?”

Tain glanced at the horse’s scorched right side, metal showing through holes in it’s hide. “I… Yes.”

“Typhoon’s showing me memories of the various stages they implanted all of it. I think we could deactivate everything but the essentials but…”

“Difficult,” Tain replied. 

Arrow just watched, wide-eyed. Furor barked loudly and began sauntering off, but not before Sara picked him up. “All right, but be careful,” she said to the fox. “They might be out looking for us since we caused a bit more damage than usual.” He yipped his understanding, and she let him bound off into the trees.

Peragrine opened his eyes briefly, and looked up at Tain. “Please? Otherwise, this creature will die.”

Sara interrupted. “Please Tain, if you don’t, I’ll have to! Then he’ll have a even worse chance of living!”

Tain frowned, and while he didn’t look directly at her, his tone showed his emotion. “I think you’ve done enough.” With this, he sat down by the side of the horse and began ripping off the loose hide to get to the metal machinery beneath. “I need tools."

Sara went into her tent, shuffling through things and finding various tools, which she brought back to Tain.

Tain nodded. “These will work.” With this, he opened the largest panel, just to see what he was dealing with.

While Tain began identifying components, Peragrine closed his eyes, and everything melted away except himself and Typhoon’s energy. Typhoon didn’t use words, but past images and sensations. Peragrine hardly felt his lips move, barely heard himself speak, as he basically translated this constant stream of information into directions that Tain could use to discover and piece together the individual systems and how they interacted...

They spent all day in this twisted form of surgery. Tain and Peragrine worked in tandem, working to save Typhoon, who was strangely calm throughout the procedure. When Sara was not nervously watching them, she was setting up extra tents for them to stay, if necessary. 

A few hours in, Furor returned with a rabbit. As Sara was still setting up tents, she unbound Carson, and he proved to be an expert chef, turning the rabbit into a delicious roast. All the while Furor begged for his rightful portion.

Well after the sun had passed it’s zenith and began it’s decent to the western hills, Peragrine let go of the horse’s head, and flopped back in exhaustion.

“Bro-hinny-hinny,” he muttered, still mentally stuck in Typhoon’s mind. “I mean… That was exhausting.”

“Neigh, Peragrine, Neigh.” Sara face-palmed, hovering over Tain’s shoulder. ”Is he… going to be okay?” Sara said.

Tain set aside the sewing needle he had been using. His features were disheveled, and filled with worry. He couldn’t say for certain that the horse was saved. But now that they had spent so much time on it, he hoped it didn’t all come to naught.

Peragrine directed his gaze towards Sara. “We’ve done all we can. Tain, you’re a wizard.”

“Magicians are grumpier, therefore, he is a magician, not a wizard.” Sara pointed out.

Tain waved them off, muttering something along the lines of ‘needing rest’. Finding one of the tents Sara had set up, he went inside and quickly became dead to the world. So tired was he, that he’d forgotten to talk to Sara about having untied Carson. 

Meanwhile, Peragrine leapt upon Sara’s comment. “Oh? Have you met many Magic-Users?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Oh.” Peragrine tried to hide his disappointment. 

“I’m not saying you're grumpy, but most are.” Sara stated.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just trying to learn more about magic. I’m not really a master at it yet, but I want to be!”

Sara thought for a moment. “Well…  In Wishwell, if your planning to stay for a day or two, you can get some books on beginner's magic...."

Peragrine facepalmed. “Duh! I should have thought of that last night.”

A squirrel climbed up unto Peragrine. “Squeaka?”

Surprised, Peragrine still had the presence of mind to remain still. “Hey there, little fella!”

“Squeeeeakers…” The squirrel rubbed her head against Perry, who looked in askance at Sara. 

“Meet Furor’s new best friend.” Sara said dryly, shaking her head. ”Twig.”

“Since when?” Peragrine asked, looking around for the fox. “I haven’t seen him since he left early this morning.

Sara pointed to a pile of feathers meant for arrows that was being fluffed around by Furor.

“Oh, hi, Furor!” Peragrine called. 

Furor stopped slaying the feathers and skipped up to Peragrine. “Hello! “I see you’ve met Twiggy!” he barked.

Peragrine glanced down at the Squirrel on his jacket sleeve. “Yes, I suppose I have!”

Twig made her way up to his shoulder and sat down, as if it was her throne. 

“You should probably get some sleep,” Sara interrupted, changing the subject.

Refocusing on Sara, he sighed. “You’re probably right.” Looking down at the sleeping Typhoon at his knees, he added, “I hope Typhoon pulls through. But even if he does, I don’t think he’ll be up for any big adventures anytime soon.” He turned to Sara. “Assuming he gets better, can you take care of him?”

Sara glanced at Arrow, then looked back. ”Sure. Oats will help his coat get…” Sara turned to his bald right side. “Growing? Maybe, I think.”

Peragrine grinned. “I mean, he looks pretty fierce right now, just add some flames- You should have seen him fighting! It was spectacular! The guy could shoot LAS-”

“DON’T REMIND ME!!” Sara looked at her shoulder, which she had bandaged. 

Peragrine stopped short, realizing he was making Typhoon out to be nothing more than a weapon.

“What I mean to say is... he fought bravely.”

“We don’t know, his life has been controlled by- you-know-what.” 

Peragrine hadn’t thought of that. He considered what he knew from being inside Typhoon’s memories. Feelings and emotions had not been the point of their bizarre conversation, mostly sight and sensation.

He didn’t know what to say to Sara’s rebuttal, so instead the two fell into silence.

“I guess I should get some rest,” Peragrine admitted.

“First tent to the left.”

“Ok, thanks, Mom.” he muttered, before realizing he’d said it aloud.

“I heard that. And you’re welcome.”

Peragrine was relieved she wasn’t offended or creeped out. He was probably older than her!

Chapter 9: The Right Thing.

As the sun went down, Carson awoke. Smacking his lips, he realized with irritation he’d fallen asleep with his mouth open. Now he had an awful taste in his mouth. 

Getting up, he stumbled out of the tent to see Sara and Furor cooking more rabbit, only this time as a stew, and… Hot dogs?

Sara greeted him. “Late evening! How are you? You seem like normal; Let's see, ahh yes, Grumpy. You're okay.”

Carson walked forward, snatching a HOT dog from one of the sticks stuck around the fire with his hands, before stalking off towards the horses. However, before he’d gotten out of polite earshot, Sara spoke again.

“Can I talk to you? I promise it’ll be worth the time.” 

Carson considered how worthwhile his time was, right now. Seeing as he literally had nothing else to do, it wasn’t worth much, which made him wonder if it would be worth listening to the woman.

"All right. Fine." He walked back over to the campfire and sat down on a log. Furor snuggled up next to him, which made him wrinkle his nose in disgust, but he didn't move away. The fox would probably just snuggle up next to him again anyway.

Sara began to whisper. "Do you like your life currently?" she asked, motioning to the rope that he had been tied up with yesterday, where it hung from the mule.

Carson leaned in, also whispering. "What sort of idiot question is that?"

Sara ignored his caustic comeback. "I mean, I could smuggle you elsewhere. Or, just get you out of this whole situation. Would you got for that?"

Carson could barely contain his surprise. Of course he could go for that... She was offering to get him out of here... Away from Tain, away from constant running...

But where would he go?

He leaned back, trying not to seem too interested. "Why? What's in it for you?" he asked.

"Nothing, and that's fine." Sara's face was brutally honest. Carson could hardly believe it.

He thought about it. If Sara could smuggle him anywhere, where would he want to go? He couldn't go back to thedude. Contrary to public opinion, he didn't want to risk ratting out the escaped prisoners. After all, it was largely his fault they'd escaped in the first place!

But he didn't want to go with some underground resistance or fight against thedude either. That was a losing battle that he wanted no part in. thedude was well on his way to controlling the whole world, after all.

Sara interrupted. "Normally, I'd give you time. But Tain wants to leave, and Peragrine... is creepy. He called me 'mom' last night." She paused, staring into space for a second. "So, 'time to decide' isn't something you have."

Carson looked out towards the big hill that represented what he could see of Wishwell. Perhaps he could hide there, as neither for, nor against thedude.

But is that really what he wanted?

"I'd have to start a whole new life," Carson thought out loud. "Maybe change my name. Forget everything I ever was."

"Well, your name could be..." Sara thought for a moment. "Nosrac!"

Carson turned back, annoyed. "That is the stupidest name I’ve ever heard. Ever.”

“It’s Carson spelled backwards!”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Carson, do you want to live your life in utter misery and utter ugh or actually have a life?”

Carson frowned. “What I want is people not pushing me around,” he muttered. 

“I can do that. I think. If… it works.”

Carson stared into the fire. For some reason, he felt ill. His stomach was rolling over, and he felt a lot of pressure. This decision could quite possibly change his whole life… He looked at Sara, scrutinized her face for any deceit. He could barely believe the fact that all he saw was complete and brutal honesty. Really, somewhat caustic. Kinda like him, only... better.

“All right. Fine,” he said, standing up. “Let’s do it.” And the weight was lifted.

“Get on Arrow, left side, and sit on his rump.”

Carson did so. Arrow nickered.

While Carson did that, Sara pulled something from out of her pocket, and strode into the makeshift tent where Tain was sleeping. As she pulled the tent flap aside, Tain awoke, and spun around, grabbing his spear from where it lay next to him. But before he could point it at Sara, she covered her mouth with her left hand and threw down a leather pouch on Tain’s face. A cloudy mixture of herbs and spices billowed throughout the tent, and Tain quickly lost focus and fell back unconscious. Before she too fell asleep, Sara ducked back out of the tent, smiling.

Jumping onto Arrow in front of Carson she immediately spurred Arrow to a full gallop out of the camp.

“Tain’s going to have some very nice dreams for awhile! Plenty of time for you to get away!”

Carson grinned wide. The first time in a long time. Literally, he was riding like the wind, away from all of his problems. It was a wonderful feeling, but before he could stereotypically spread his arms wide or get bugs in his grill, Sara brought him back down to earth.

“Now, this is the hard part, Nosrac. Finding how and where to get you a house, We’re making a stop at the Berreto’s.”  

“I am not using that name,” Carson said.

“Alright, Sacron.”

The two rode on till they reached the little cave-stable. There, Sara helped Carson dismount, and she grabbed the same rope. “I hope you can climb,” she said, eyeing him up and down worriedly as they walked to the climbing point

Carson shook his head, saying, “I’ve never done it before, but if it means I can be free, I’m willing to try.”

Sara nodded, and soon she was giving pointers to him as they reached the climbing point and started moving up. “Ok, hold the rope with both hands, and pull yourself up with your arms. Your legs should only be stabilizing you, not pushing off. Right here has good footing to start.”

They would spend a considerable amount of time climbing up, with Sara giving him plenty of help and pointers. As they continued up the surface, his face slowly turned into a furious snarl as his body screamed in agony of this new exercise. His thoughts wandered as he rose up the cliffside. From thoughts of freedom ahead, to intense hatred of what lay behind him. Being a prisoner to Tain. Having been a servant to countless bureaucrats. Being told all his life that he could be more. Should be more NEEDED to be more. 

No more. 

He would choose how much he wanted to live, if at all. A dingy little town like this, forgotten by the side of the road. It would be the perfect place to fall into blissful obscurity. . . 

When Sara looked back to check on him, his visage was truly frightening. “You ok, Larson?”

“FINE!” he yelled back. “Just. Fine.”

“Alright, Nosral.”

All she got back in return was a growl, as he focused on catching up to her.

“Y’know, Your very fun to mess with.”

“It’s all fun and games till someone loses their livelihood,” Carson said, before realizing that Sara probably didn't understand the threat. So he amended it. “Or a fox.”

Sara’s eyes were wide as she looked back down at him. "No. No one harms Furor."

Carson shrugged as best as he could. “Don't push my buttons, is what I’m trying to say,” Carson said. “I don’t take guff from anyone. Not even from… friends.”

Sara nodded, understanding flooding her still wide eyes. “Wow. I should get a title. ‘Carson’s friend’. Pretty hard to get.” She paused, then added. “But, seriously, don’t hurt Furor, otherwise.... I’ll… do something…”

“Makes… Perfect sense…” Carson said, running out of extra breath to talk AND climb.

The two continued to climb in companionable silence.

Chapter 10: Life of Carl

Peragrine waved his tent flap out and stretched. 

“Aaaah. What a beautiful day.”

Having slept in his new coat, he looked around the tent, and saw no one but a pacing Furor next to a dying campfire with Rabbit stew, cheerily bubbling.

“Morning Furor! Where’s everyone else? Not still asleep?

“I can’t tell you!” The fox said mysteriously, looking everywhere but Peragrine. “Just don’t think about it! Eat something! Anything!”

Peragrine smiled curiously. “O...kay… Is it a surprise?” he asked as he sought a bowl to get some stew.

“Sure!”

Peragrine waited for the fox to elaborate, but when it didn’t Peragrine asked: “Can I try to guess?”

“Uhhh….. Sure!”

Peragrine thought for a moment. “Did Tain and Sara go into town for wizard books?”

“Maybe!”

“ ‘Maybe’?” Peragrine echoed. “So, like, partially correct?”

“No. It’s top secret, Maybe.”

Peragrine pursed his lips. “You won’t tell me even if I do get it right, will you?”

“Maybe.”

Peragrine groaned good-naturedly. “That’s a no,” he said, as he sat down to enjoy his stew. ‘All well,’ he thought. ‘I guess I’ll just have to wait then.’

~~~~~

Sara landed on top of the Cobbler's shop. “Down here, Carl.” 

Carson looked down at the roof Sara was standing on. There was a big patch of hide covering one side of the roof, and he knew he didn’t want to land there. So he pushed off with his legs and threw himself at the more intact part of the roof where Sara stood, intending to land on all fours.

Unfortunately, his arms were about as useful in stopping him as wet noodles, and he nearly landed on top of Sara, but she side-stepped just in time leaving him to land flat on his face.  

“Seriously!” Sara laughed. “Can no one make the jump?! First Peragrine, now you!” 

Carson groaned pitifully, as he tried to get up, but his arms trembled horrendously, and wouldn’t even support his weight. He managed to roll over and sit up. His entire body felt like jittering putty. It was then that Sara noticed how ragged he looked.

“...Need any help, Lrac?”

“Call me Carl, that fits.” Carson wheezed, waving an arm disjointedly. 

“And what about a last name? How about Phlegmson?”  

Carson shook his head. “Too close to Flemming.”   

“Ok… Well, since your free now, how ‘bout Freeson?” 

“Freezing?” come to think of it, he was freezing, up here on the rooftops.

“No… How about Freeman?”

“Like the actor?”

“What’s an actor?”

Carson smiled. “Yeah, I think that fits. Carl Freeman.” With this, ‘Carl’ attempted to stand up, but he was still quite unsteady, and extremely pale. However, sitting still was making him want to hurl. Better to keep moving.

Sara helped him up, and together the two made their way down a service ladder, into an alleyway. Here, Sara stopped him.

“Ok, ‘Carl’. You’re not known here, so you can walk the streets. I’m going to take to the rooftops, but what I want you to do is walk left down this street till you reach a large two-story yellow house on your left. It will have a garden gnome out front. Knock four times, then three, then four. I’ll meet you inside.”

'Carl' nodded. “See you there.” Then he put his hands in his pockets, and stepped out into the light of the street, as Sara climbed back up the ladder.

Once on the roof, she kept a close eye on Carl. More than once, she thought she had lost him, so easily did he blend in to the others walking or driving through the street. 

'I guess that’s a good thing,' Thought Sara. 'Since he’s going to have to hide here for a long time, I guess.' 

Her thoughts sped forward to how she was going to explain all of this to Mrs. Berreto

'Hopefully, they’ll be able to lodge him till he gets his own house and on his own feet.” she thought. “It’s not like he’s invalid either. He’ll be able to help and pull his own weight. Hopefully.' She glanced down at him as he stumbled on the ugly black asphalt road.  He turned around and glared at the pothole he'd tripped on before continuing.

Pretty soon, Sara reached the house. Finding an open window, she swung through. Right into Yarnell’s room. However, it was lacking of Yarnell. Sara considered the time of day. “Must be eating.” She headed out of his room, and down some stairs. There they were, both of the Berretos. Yarnell and the Widow Berreto.  “Hi.”

“Wauh!” exclaimed Yarnell, turning around to see Sara come down the stairs. “How did you get in?!”

Mrs. Berreto was just as surprised, but not as agile, and only her face showed her surprise. “Miss Pinewood, what are you doing here??? And in broad daylight…!”

“A window, Yarnell, what else? And I’m here… I’ll explain later. Someone by the name of Cars-Carl Freeman is coming. Don’t worry.”

Yarnell raised an eyebrow. “Like.... The actor?”

“For the second time, what’s an actor?!”

Just then, someone knocked on the door. Three times. Then four. Then three.

Mrs. Berreto stood up. “I suppose we’ll be needing two more settings?”

Yarnell went to get the door. “Should I let whomever it is in?” he asked, not directing his question to either woman in particular.

“Yes.” Sara said. “It’s Carl.”

Mrs. Berreto shrugged as she shuffled off to the kitchen.

Yarnell opened the door, and saw a man with baggy sweats, a baggy cardigan sweater over a puffy cotton shirt, and normal leather shoes. He looked like a total vagrant, and about to pass out.  

“Hey kid,” the vagrant said. “I’m here to see Sara.”

Yarnell nodded. “She’s here.” He stepped aside and let him in, closing the door after him.

“Hi, Carl.” Sara said.

“Sara.” he replied. “So why are we here?”

“So, first of all, is Steven here, Mrs. Berreto?”

Mrs. Berreto shook her head. “No. He’s pretty busy… Since yesterday, you know…” 

Sara winced.

“The grumpy ole’ doctor’s been working non-stop after your escape blew up all those people at the front gate,” Yarnell said. “Which reminds me, how did you make such powerful explosives?!”

“Oh. Right. I told you I’d explain.” Sara sighed. 

“You said something about a half-robot?” 

As briefly as she could, Sara told the tale of last night from the moment she’d woken up Yarnell, (and the reason for it) to when she’d escaped on Arrow. Several times throughout the story, she cast an apologetic glance to Carl, who had gotten a glass of water from Mrs. Berreto, and was sitting in a comfortable chair, regaining some of the color in his face. Surprisingly, he didn’t interrupt, and in fact shared a (very small) interest in the story with Yarnell and Mrs. Berreto. Eventually, she finished.

“Anyways, Carl’s house-hunting, and while he’s doing that, can he stay with you guys?” 

Mrs. Berreto turned to Carl.  “You’re new in town?”

Carl didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah. Been on the road for a long time. Need to settle down. My old life’s gone up in flames during some rebellion riot. Your town seems pretty quiet. Maybe I can start over here.” He couldn’t help the hint of a smile play on his lips as he told his half-truths.  

“Normally, I’d let him stay with me, but...” Sara paused. “I’ve got a mayor to deal with.”

Yarnell nodded. “Since you didn’t get to it last night. Steven’s still really upset about that. He says you shouldn’t go to Mayor Guy directly.”

Mrs. Berreto nodded. “Not sure what you hope to accomplish, but I- we- all don’t want you getting hurt or captured.”

“I know you don’t. But honestly, I don’t really care about what happens to me," Sara replied.

“Well, others do.” Yarnell squeaked.

Carl raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, no one else finds this as important.” retorted Sara. “If I don’t, no one else will.“  

This silenced the other two. Carl crossed his arms. When no one said anything immediately, he jumped in, feeling much better. “So, can I stay here for a few days? I’m a real good cook, and I’ll be out of your hair most days, looking to get myself set up here in town.”

Yarnell turned to Mrs. Berreto. “Mom?”

She pursed her lips as she looked Carl up and down. Something didn’t sit right with her about him… But she couldn’t pin it. Perhaps it was how he’s been brought in by Sara. How he’d just be thrusted upon them. Perhaps it was his strange non-traveling attire. Perhaps it was because it was clear he hadn’t bathed in awhile. 

Ultimately though, none of these were reasons to say no. 

“I… don’t see why not. There’s a spare room upstairs, past Yarnell’s and mine. It’s surely full of cobwebs, but a little bit of elbow grease will make it decent again. Let’s see your work ethic.”

Carl’s nose wrinkled momentarily at the mention of work ethic, but he quickly swallowed it, turning it into a determined frown. “Very well.” he groused, as he followed Mrs. Berreto up the stairs. 

Sara nodded. “I know this is sudden, but, Yarnell, he really is a good cook. I guess I should head back now.”

Mrs. Berreto stopped halfway up the stairs and looked back at Sara. “Is that all you came for, Sara? Sure you don’t want to stay for lunch?”

Sara thought for a moment. She didn’t want to go back and deal with Tain. No, She REALLY  didn’t want to. 

“Sure.” She decided.

This caught Mrs. Berreto and Yarnell off-guard. 

“Really?” Yarnell asked.

“If you’re alright with that, I think it’d be a nice change.”

“Oh, OK!” he replied chirpily. 

Soon, all four of them were sitting down to the Berreto’s lunch.

Chapter 11: Gut Reaction

Tain awoke with a start. Sitting up, he realized he was covered in sweaty grime. His tent was unbearably stifling. He immediately crawled out of his tent for fresh air. He was panicking, but he couldn't remember why. 

“Oh, hey Tain! Wow, you slept LATE!” Peragrine’s voice called out. Tain looked towards the voice, but everything in his vision was still blurry. He remembered a washbin being next to his tent, so he turned there and dunked his head in, rubbing the strange grime off of his face.

When he pulled his head out of the water, Peragrine had come over. 

“...so I just had second breakfast! Seriously, this stew is out of this world. Or maybe I’m still just getting used to non-prison life; not sure-”

Suddenly, with the clarity of his eyes restored, all the rest of Tain’s memory came rushing back to him.

“Where’s Sara???”

“Sara? Probably still sleeping, Carson too, neither of them have got up,” Peragrine yammered, a soup bowl in his hand.

Tain shook his head, ran to Sara’s bear-hide tent and threw the flap open. “Empty.” he declared. He dashed to Carson’s tent.

It too, was empty. 

“Crux,” Tain whispered.

Furor whined, pacing again.

“CRUX!” Yelled Tain, running to his horse. “SHE TOOK HIM!”

Peragrine didn't connect the dots quite as fast, turning to Furor. “Furor…?”

The fox jumped in alarm at seeing Tain move so fast. It barked at Peragrine, who turned back to Tain, but he was already mounting Cooper. 

“Tain, wait! Furor says h-”

“Diversion!” Tain barked back at Peragrine, as he spurred Cooper to an impressive full speed. Behind him, Furor was barking and yipping up a storm.

Peragrine did a double-take, listening to his two friends at odds he didn't understand. “Furor, what is going ON???” he asked, his words echoing in his head like Furor’s did.

“Are you for Tain who is grumpy and knowing full well he’s ruining someone's life or for Sara, who’s just trying to do something good?!” the fox said with all the conviction of a innocent child.

Suddenly, it all clicked for Peragrine, and his heart dropped into his fancy new boots.  

“Oh no.”

~~~~

Tain and Cooper streaked across the field towards Wishwell.  Only now that he was riding somewhere did he think about where he was going. 

“Where would she have taken him?” 

His first thought was that she’d given him a horse and had him ride off to wherever he liked. But then he remembered that all the horses were there except for Arrow. That meant she’d taken him somewhere. 

And the only place he knew of around here was Wishwell. 

He’d start there.  If he didn’t find him there… well… Then he and Peragrine would be found soon enough.

As he neared the town, he pondered how he was going to get in. Peragrine had mentioned in passing how they’d climbed over the wall and into town… but he didn't know where that was.

Suddenly, Peragrine and Betsy sidled up next to them. “This way…!” he said, seeming just as tired as his horse, strangely. They took off along the left of the cliff-face, and Tain followed them on Cooper.

Soon, they were at the spot. Peragrine pointed up.

“This is where I scaled the wall with her and some rope. There’s a little hook up there, if you can see it?”

Tain peered up. “Yeah. I see it.” They stared at it together, then he shook his head. “That will take too long.” He turned his horse around. “There’s no other gate except for the main one, right?”

Peragrine nodded slowly. “Yeeeah… Actually, yesterday, me and Typhoon kinda blew it to bits…”

Tain brought Cooper up to speed again, and Betsy strained to match the courier horse. “Then you’re going to blow it up again!” he yelled back.

~~~~

Sara started to get up from her chair. “I’d better head out now.”

The other three stood up. “It was nice having you!” Yarnell said. “For lunch, I mean. Instead of for the stuff we usually do. Like tense meetings or missions stuff. Though it’s nice to see you then too…” 

Yarnell stopped talking and started picking up dishes. 

Carl rolled his eyes. “I think I should head out too. There’s still plenty of daylight, and I want to get a good look at the town,” he said. “I’ll be back a bit after dark, I think.” he turned to Mrs. Berreto. “Thank you very much. I’ll see you later.” 

Mrs. Berreto nodded as she walked over to her chair with her knitting. “Take care, both of you.”

Carl left out the door like a normal human being, while Sara headed out the way she came in. Up the stairs, turning a right into Yarnell’s room, and juming out of the very convenient window. 

She looked out across the rooftops for any prying eyes. Nope. Nothing up here but distant screams and explo- wait, what?

Sara looked out towards the west gate. The main gate. The only gate. There were explosions and fires starting up…!

Sara’s eyes widened. This wasn’t Tain… WAS IT? If it was, he'd clearly lost his mind!

She couldn’t let them find 'Carl'.

Or could she? No, preferably not. She'd gone this far, it would be a waste to stop now.

Rapidly, she began forming a plan. “CARL!” she yelled, catching his attention on the street below, she motioned for him to go back inside.

In response, a confused Carl looked around before ducking into a nearby general store.

Sara simply facepalmed. "I guess that works," she muttered, pulling out her double-bladed dagger, and heading towards the sounds of destruction.

Chapter 12: Final Scene.

Tain tore through the town, with Peragrine right behind him, blowing away anyone who tried to stop them. 

“SAAARAAA!” Tain yelled. “COME OUT, SARA!” 

He had considered calling for Carson, but he knew that Carson wouldn’t come out. However, if he’d learned anything about Sara’s characteristics over the past 2 days, he guessed she’d respond to someone tearing through her town. From her, he’d be able to figure out where Carson went. 

At least, he hoped. Right now, it was his best shot, and time was against him. The longer Carson was missing, the longer he had to hide or get away.

“I WON’T STOP TURNING WISHWELL UPSIDE DOWN TILL I FIND YOU, SARA,” he continued.

They were right around the middle of town now. The very well the town had been named after stood in sad disrepair in the center of what was a partially-constructed vehicle roundabout.

Suddenly, Sara came crashing down on top of Tain, taking him right off his horse. She attempted to pin him to the ground as she thrust her double-bladed dagger right at his heart. However, a burst of wind tossed her aside like a ragdoll. 

Sara immediately figured it out. “PERAGRINE!!!” she cried, seeing the Wizard boy ride up and snag Tain off the ground in an amazing display of trick riding. Now Tain and Perry were riding double atop a frantic Betsy.   

“YOU SAID YOU’D BE GENTLE WITH HER!!! LIAR!” she said, changing the subject.

But Tain wouldn’t be deterred from his mission. As Perry steered a nervous Betsy in circles around Sara, Tain questioned her. 

“Where did you take him, Sara?”

“BAH-HUMBUG!” She yelled.

“Did you bring him to the authorities?”

“FETTUCCINE ALFREDO!”

“Is he here?”

“NI.”

Tain nodded, her 'no' meant 'yes' to him. His eyes burning with frustration, he continued,  “Which way?”

Sara looked around wildly for an incorrect answer. She pointed at the sky. “POTATO!”

"Underground??" In this case, the reverse didn't seem to make much sense. One thing was clear, Carson was near, or she wouldn't be so desperate-sounding.

Unfortunately, this insane interrogation was cut short by Paradox Rogues finally catching up with Tain and Perry.

“Halt! In the name of the Law, I order you all to GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!!!” A Shinobi announced, holding two sharukins. 

Tain pointed at her. “IT’S THE FUGITIVE SARA, SHE STOLE MY- uh.” Tain’s adrenaline-fueled bravado faltered as he realized he didn't know exactly how to describe Carson without sounding incriminating himself. Peragrine was about to whisper him a pointer when--

“THEY’RE THE GUYS WHO ESCAPED THUNDERCLAP!” Sara said, pointing her dagger at the two men on the finally still horse.

Silence rolled out from the three surrounded fugitives. Sara stared at the two on horseback with a straight face and wide eyes. Peragrine too, had wide eyes, but they were deeply hurt and disbelieving. Behind him, Tain’s anger and frustration bubbled over out of every nuance of his demeanor towards Sara.

“Sara…” Peragrine whispered. “Why?”

Sara looked at him. “Because your wrong. Everyone in this town is wrong.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but... the guard piped up again.

“I want you all down on the ground, with your hands on your heads where I can see them. Otherwise, I’m afraid things are about to get messy.”

Peragrine’s gaze dropped. He whispered something to Tain, and they seemed to agree on something. Tain looked back at Sara.

“What do you need, Niat?” Sara snarked.

Tain shook his head. “Nothing from you. I only need Carson.”

“THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING; DOWN ON THE GROUND, NOW.” the Shinobi yelled. The sound of guns and other weapons priming or being aimed echoed throughout.

Sara rolled her eyes at the guard and ended by looking at Peragrine.

“So. Where. Is. He.” Tain growled at Sara.

Sara shook her head, and mouthed, “I’ll tell you later. Just shoot him.”

Tain scoffed. “Now, Peragrine.”

“NOW!” yelled the guard.

“DO IT NOW!” Sara yelled at Peragrine, as she pulled out her bow and shot randomly at the crowd of Rouges.

Just as countless dangerous missiles flew at the three, (and one arrow flew away, shot by Sara,) Peragrine threw his arms up as if he was tossing glitter, and a bright, spherical wave of magic reflected all of the dangerous implements...

Right back at the attackers. 

Dozens of Paradox Rogues, Town guardsmen, volunteer militia, and bystanders went down with gunshots, arrows, spears, and other reflected implements shot back at them.

As the bright light faded, Peragrine opened his eyes, and saw all of them knocked over, many badly hurt.  However, before this realization really sank in, Tain yelled from right behind him on the horse, “THERE HE IS!”, and reached in front of him for the reigns to yank Betsy into movement down the road. Peragrine followed his gaze, and saw it too.

There was Carson, standing a ways away, on the porch of a general store, appearing shocked at the scene that was playing out before him.

Sara saw him at the same time as Tain, and started to run after Tain and Perry, but someone in the crowd caught her attention.

“Ouuuh.”

“YARNELL!!!!” 

There he was, face up in the dirt road, at the back of the crowd. He’d been shot in the chest by a blaster. Or, a reflected one, anyway. Not that it mattered. Sara ran immediately to his side. 

“Yarnell, what happened?”

Yarnell opened his eyes, and as soon as he saw Sara, he valiantly began to speak, even though it clearly hurt to do so. “...Heard trouble.  Came out of the house to take a look. Ah! Bright light, and then I got shot!” He tucked his chin, trying to get a good look at it, but let his head fall back as the extra effort was too much. “Auh!” he cried, turning his eyes to Sara. “Is it bad?” he asked through tears.

“Don’t move, Yarnell…” Sara spoke as calmly as she could, but her eyes were also tearing up. But before she could continue, she heard a sharp whistle, and the sound of horse-hooves coming back down the road.

“LET ME GO, YOU INSUFFERABLE BIGOT!” screamed Carson as Tain rode Betsy with Carson slung across in front of him. Peragrine had somehow recovered Cooper and was riding him as well. They were charging back along the road, and would be passing Sara any moment…

She stood up. “One second, Yarnell.”  As they stampeded by, Sara grabbed Carson’s hand, and pulled, HARD.

Carson came tumbling off of the horse, down into the gravel that would make the paved roundabout. Tain reared Betsy up, to turn her around, as any of the wounded still laying around scrambled to get out of the way.

Right behind Tain, Peragrine came on Cooper, attempting to scoop Carson back up, but Sara simply said, “Just one last word, and that's not a request.”

This gave Peragrine pause, and he slid his mount next to Tain, giving him a ‘wait’ signal. Tain visibly scowled, a frightening sight, but he lined Betsy up next to Cooper, and both horses and riders appeared to hold a furiously whispered conversation.

Sara helped ‘Carl’ up off of the ground from where he’d fallen off of the horse into the asphalt. He looked the absolute worst she’d seen him yet. And yet, there was definitely something different about him now.  A defiance in his eyes that had been hidden before.

“Carson, I’m sorry. It didn’t work.” Sara now whispered. She didn't know really what or how to say what she... wanted to say, but didn't know? So it all came out in a strange rush. “But stop letting them boss you around. You can literally say, `Hm… No thanks.’ if they go against that, tell them I told you, and I’m right. And, while you’re at it, sneak in an, ‘I’m awesome’. Got that?” 

Carson stared at Sara for an uncomfortably long time, as others around them began to get up and recover, and as Tain and Peragrine watched a few feet away.

Finally, he put a cut and bleeding hand on her shoulder. “Thanks.” Then he let his hand drop, and limped over to his captors.

Without a word, Tain dropped off his horse and bound Carson with rope. Then the two re-mounted.

Sara pointed a finger at Tain. “What you’re doing is wrong, and I think you know it.” 

Tain made no reply.

Then she looked at Peragrine. “You’re a little bit better. But if you don’t fully agree, you should tell him. And if he’s upset about that, that’s his problem.”

Peragrine’s only response was the pained and haunted look he gave Sara. 

Then the three turned their horses around, and rode unopposed out of the wreckage known as Wishwell.

They took the east road, never speaking a word, nor stopping... Not until night had fallen, and Wishwell was far out of sight.

<======{///) End Act II (\\\}======>

Act 3: Iron Crick

Chapter 1: Peragrine's Thoughts

Peragrine couldn’t sleep. But not because he wasn't tired. Oh no. Actually, this was the most tired he could ever remember being! But…

Every time he closed his eyes and tried to stop the typical incessant buzzing of his mind to get to his ever active and generally fantastic dreamland, the silence and blankness of the inside of his eyelids would become an unwilling stage for the retelling of recent events. The chaos and destruction of Wishwell on not one, but two separate accounts.

In the moment, (both moments), they had been thrilling… but thinking back...He’d really done a number on the place! 

And the place hadn't been a prison, or a bad guy base, like Thunderclap had been. This was a tiny town on the side of the road. Heck, he’d grown up in a place sorta like that. . . 

With a sickening revulsion that he felt in the very pit of his stomach, he realized that he’d done to whatever children that grew up there something similar to what the maelstrom had done to him all those years ago. In hindsight, he could recall younger faces zipping by his field of vision. Faces of fear, confusion, and terror-filled awe. He could guess at what they saw when they looked at him. A monstrous entity, destroying chaotically, leaving destruction, confusion, and wreckage both physical and mental in its wake. 

Lives forever changed.

Admittedly, it was a much smaller scale than when the Maelstrom had blown up his home planet of Crux. This planet was still intact, they could rebuild their homes… But Peregrine knew that was because he simply wasn’t as powerful. In scale, it didn’t make his lack of self-control any less heinous. 

This realization, and the silence and stillness of his companions in the camp was crushing him.

So much for using his powers to help people.

The wrench in his gut, the regret in his heart, it was too much. Peragrine curled up in his stolen sleeping bag and cried himself to sleep.

~~~~~

Peragrine stood on the porch in his thin, borrowed farmer clothes. In front of him were Stirling’s long lost siblings, Peter and Emily, as well as dear Mrs Richardson. He laid a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Peter, I want to let you know I'm going to do everything I can to get your family back together. But for now, you need to focus on getting better so you can be there for the reunion, wherever it might be held, k?"

Peter looked at Peragrine neutrally. Then he smiled and said, "I'm glad Stirling was lucky enough to have someone like you at his back. God be with you, Peragrine. Come back safe."

Peragrine grinned back. "Thanks, Peter." He turned to a recovered Emily who had an arm around Mrs. Richardson.

"This is goodbye for now, Emily."

Emily took a deep breath and said, "Well, as long as you bring Stirling back and we have a party, I'll forgive you."

Peragrine nodded eagerly. "It's a deal!" he put his hand forth to shake on it. Emily regarded the hand with a bit of confusion, then disdain. She grabbed it and yanked Peragrine into a bear hug. Behind Perry, Peter chuckled. Patting him on the back, she let him go. 

Now blushing, Perry turned to Mrs. Richardson, who had her sad, sweet smile.

"My boy, I do hope you go out and bless others as you've blessed all of us."

Peragrine became sombre. "Mrs. Richardson... I've not brought any blessing to you!" he realized. She began to counter with a shaking of her head, but Peragrine was having an epiphany. "Oh my word, I've done nothing for you." He gasped, covering his mouth. She shook her head.  "I couldn't save your daughter, and I can guess what happened to your husband based off of what happened at the Merry Band, and... Oh my-"

"No." she finally said, as she pointed at him. "You will not go about placing blame on yourself for circumstances." Her voice was soft, and broke at points, but there was still strands of strength in it. Strands of conviction. "When I and my husband saw you and your friend crash down that day, 15 years ago, we knew something big was happening. We knew the name Silverstine, but what we didn't know at the time was the name Wanderthistle. Well that's changed. You go out there, find your friend. You go out there, and change this world. Just like we told the two of you back at our old house. I didn't know I'd pay more than just an over tilled field, but I'll keep paying if that's what it takes to ensure this land's freedom for the next thousand generations." She turned on Emily. "Your mother, remember her speech? 'We need not just heros, but legends.' Well, here's one now. And Peter's another. And all those out there whom you helped escape, they are too. Your mother's a legend, as far as I'm concerned. She's risked herself to save us all. WE ARE LEGENDS." Mrs. Richardson was shaking with emotion. "So, Peragrine Wanderthistle, don't you dare say you haven't done anything for me." Peragrine nodded vigorously causing tears to flip off his eyes. Somewhat scared but also ridiculously proud and moved, he listened to this wonderful dark-skinned (but not really dark skinned?) Lady he owed so much to. 

"Just go out and keep ... being you." She ended awkwardly. 

Peragrine nodded, and turned to step off the porch, and join Tain and Carson…

~~~~

Waking up, Peragrine was greeted by a brand new sunrise. Morose, but thoughtful, Peragrine gathered new strength from the sight of the new sun.

He'd made a mistake.

He wouldn't be allowed to go back and fix it.

But an even worse thing would be to give up on his gift entirely.

Instead, he resolved to get back on the horse.

Literally!

Chapter 2: Tain's Thoughts

Tain stared into the Western wind. North and west. That’s where he wanted to go. Towards the Moorlands, on the border of Ankoria. There, supposedly, there was a prison camp. A secret prison camp, rumored to be frequented by visits from Lord Vladek. Which made sense, since Vladek’s ancient personal fortress from wars past was situated somewhere in the north of Ankoria.

But in that prison camp… Was the love of his life. Moira. A fellow Paradox Rogue, who apparently, like himself, had seen she was fighting for the wrong side. Had realized the atrocities they were ordered to commit were not for the betterment of minifigurekind.  

Tain rubbed his temples as he let his mind wander, reminding himself what he desired to do with his freedom. What he needed to do.

Before his imprisonment, they had designated him the Rogue Square. A Rogue Rogue. He’d escaped capture, at first. But he hadn’t been able to thwart their plans and still evade them forever. Eventually, he was captured by an elite force commanded by one ‘Mikhaila’.  Before she’d locked him away, she’d mocked him with the knowledge that his Love had been similarly captured and taken to this... Moorlands Camp.

That had been 5 years ago. 

His teeth ground against each other as he considered two great evils.

Either his information was still accurate, and his beloved Moira had been, and still was, in a squalid concentration camp for 5 years… or he would travel all the way there with his chosen… associates, only to find nothing. Either way, this 5 year-old lead was his only one to go on, and his two chosen companions were coming to help. Well, at least one was.

Having once again come to the same conclusion that he had the many other times he’d done this to focus himself since getting out of prison, he grew impatient. He turned to the other two. Carson was snoring, and Peragrine was muttering in his sleep. 

He had an insane compulsion to shake them awake, get them moving, find a whip and drive them both forward out of pure frustration. But instead, he took a deep breath and looked East.

If he was correct, sunrise was just minutes away. Then they could get moving once again.

He turned back around, looking South now, to where the main road was, just out of sight.

Yesterday, leaving Wishwell, he’d opted to gallop down the East-West Road. Even if it was obvious and open, they had gotten much further than if they had cut through the open fields.  However, when night came, he had called for a rest, cutting north into the tall grass fields. The other two had wordlessly followed and silently set up camp, before turning in.  

It was about balancing his impatient need for swiftness with the needs of his group, as well as the need to hide their fugitive status, which due to Sara Pinewood of Wishwell, was still quite hot on their tails, he was certain.

Wait. ‘His’ group?

The sound of Peragrine yawning obnoxiously loud, made Tain aware that the time for reflection was over. It was time for action.

Chapter 3: New Dynamics

“Aaaah. Morning, Tain!” Peregrine said, as he stretched and slapped himself all over to get the blood flowing. 

“Peragrine.”

Peregrine sauntered over to his saddlebags and rooted around for some cold breakfast. “I assume we’re going to try and eat as we ride?”

“That would be wise.”

Peregrine glanced sidelong at Tain, who was simply standing there. “Did you get a single wink of sleep, brother?”

Tain blinked. Honestly, no, he hadn’t. But Peragrine would worry and fuss about him if he knew. 

“I’m fine.”

Peregrine frowned. 

‘Damn,’ thought Tain. ‘That was the wrong thing to say.’

“If you say so, Tain. But I’m keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t fall off your high horse. Literally.” Peregrine admonished.

“Fine.”

Just then, Carson groaned as he rolled over and his face came into contact with the beautiful sunlight, waking him.

“Oh for the love of-” Carson began, languidly pulling his arms over his face to hide from the beauty of it all.

“GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINE!” Peregrine belted, striding over to Carson with a handful of biscuits.

“AH! Good G-”

Peregrine shoved biscuit in Carson’s mouth. “Time to get up and eat, you beautiful barnacle-face!

Some obscenities were rendered into garbled “Mruffurumphs” as he tried to chew and curse at the same time, all the while being pulled to his feet by Perry, and then saddled up by Tain. He was tied by his feet to the stirrups, leaving his hands free for breakfast or whatever else.

Fairly soon, the three made their way back to the main road and continued west at a strong and steady canter.

Peragrine rode his horse ahead of Tain and Carson. His horse, Betsy the Mare, really seemed to enjoy the wind which whipped along the road. And of course, she had figured out that the best wind was in front of the group. Behind them, Tain and Carson sat on their respective mounts, Cooper and the Mule, who still had not received a name.

Tain watched Peragrine as the young magician cantering ahead. Perry was smiling and chuckling, turning his head every which way, and pointing things out, apparently to his mare. It seemed like they were having a grand old time, traipsing along without a care in the world. Even the mare, Betsy, seemed to be enjoying it.

Tain didn't understand it. 

He turned his head to his left. Carson was lying with his chin atop the Mule's low head. Both the mule and Tain's horse, Cooper, were trotting easily along. The perfect gait for speed and stamina.

"You see this guy? It's like he's lost his marbles or something. Talking to his horse; Who does that?" Carson gestured lacklusterly at Peragrine. "Like he's drunk or something." 

Tain didn't reply. He was too busy doing what he realized no one else would do. Keeping an eye out for patrols. 

Thankfully, they had only seen a few in the far distance, all going back in the direction of Thunderclap Keep. As far as Tain knew, they hadn't been seen. Or if they had, their new looks had hidden them.

Tain was honestly surprised at how evidently poor a job the search teams had done before giving up. However, he decided not to question this particular stroke of luck.

Instead, he reminded himself that all that mattered now was getting to the Moorlands Prison Camp, and freeing Moira. Freeing her from the tortures Mikhaila and others had no doubt subjected her to... Freeing her from the physical prison as much as the mental one...

He knew she was waiting. Far too long already. Far too long.

Beneath him, Cooper snorted. Tensed up. Turning one big brown eye back at Tain, he seemed to ask, 'Where's the danger?' even as he continued at the same, even pace.  

Tain closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released his own tension that he'd built up by thinking too hard about things beyond his control. 

Cooper watched him a moment more, before blinking the big brown eye, and turning back, relaxing once again.

~~~~~

The day passed by, entirely uneventful. Tain was elated by their speed, and estimated they would be able to make the Western Crossroads by tomorrow. From there, they would follow the road as it bent North.

Even better, Peragrine hadn’t bothered him, and Carson was next to nonexistent. That was not to say that he didn’t watch them both very closely. Only that he didn’t have to intervene.

~~~~~

Chapter 4: False Stop

Night approached, and as the Sun dipped below the horizon, the trio struck off the road to make camp. Peregrine seemed to finally be finding less and less to say to his horse, as he drifted closer to Tain.

“Hey, Doc,” Peregrine said. “You should get some sleep.”  He tilted his head, staring at Tain intensely. “You’re about ready to pass out, I can tell.”

Tain didn’t like Peragrine staring at him like that, but… He was really tired. A proper sleep wasn’t something he’d had since… Well since Sara had drugged him, but he didn’t really consider that a good rest. In which case, it had been more than a day or so since he’d slept. Which normally was fine. He’d gone longer without sleep. But recent events had been taxing for someone on a normal sleep schedule… Also he seemed to be the only one watching out for anything...

“I’ll take watch,” the Wizard boy said. Tain opened his mouth, but Peragrine waved a hand. “And yeah, I’ll watch Carson like a hawk. Actually, a Falcon.”

Tain closed his mouth, but then another thought came up, and he opened it again. But Peragrine cut him off once more. “Yeah, I’ll watch for patrols.”

Tain shook his head.

“Oh, and I’ll wake you if I start to fall asleep, is that what you wanted?”

Tain closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

Peragrine shook his head. “Not to worry. I’m going to be fully awake. I have some stuff to sort in my head, but don’t worry, I’ll be fully alert!”

Tain decided to ignore that last bit.

Within the hour, a fire-less camp had been set up, a wordless cold dinner was served, and Tain and the mounts were fast asleep.

Carson was tied to the mule, which was tied to a stake in the ground along with the other two horses. He woke the mule and led it to its furthest extent of its rope so that then he could come and sit next to Peragrine, who sat a ways from the camp.

Peragrine was sitting cross legged in the grass. It was significantly shorter than the grass they’d camped in yesterday, and been walking through before, coming up a bit higher than one’s knees, rather than being chest high like it had been on their way to Wishwell.  

“What are you doing, juju kid?” Carson asked, noting that Peragrine had his eyes closed, his nose into the gentle night breeze.

“I’m not really sure.”

“Thought you were supposed to be on watch.”

Peragrine opened one eye to look at Carson. “Oh, I am. But I’m also trying to contact Steffan.”

Carson gave Peragrine a look. “That explains so much, and yet, so little.”

“Would you like me to elaborate?”

“Absolutely...”

“Cool! I’m gl-”

“...Not.” With this, Carson made a big show of getting up to leave.

“Wait!” Peragrine said, opening both eyes. “I need to ask you a favor.”

Carson paused noncommittally. Peragrine continued. “If I blank out or otherwise lose my grip on reality, can you slap me?”

Carson considered for a moment. “What you’re saying is, if you slack off in lookout duty, you want me to hit you?“

“It would make me feel a lot safer while I try to figure out this Magic stuff,” Peragrine said, adding brightly, “I might even learn how to fix your back!”

Carson reflexively tried to feel the small of his back, where Emily had stabbed him back in Thunderclap Prison, and where Peragrine had subsequently ‘healed’ him by numbing it with his magic. However, with his hands bound in front of him, he couldn’t. Either way, it was still numb. 

He shrugged. “Sure. I’ll watch the watcher for a while.”

Peragrine beamed. “Thanks buddy.”

Carson frowned, but didn’t say anything, instead settling down next to Peragrine.

Peragrine closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Ok, how do I want to do this?” he thought. Last time he’d talked with Steffan Rhyffed (In fact, the only time), he’d been asleep. 

He honestly didn’t know how to do it again, or even where to begin!

“Well, not knowing how to do something doesn’t mean ya can’t do it!”  He thought optimistically. “I’ll just call out… psychically!”  Accessing his magic, he felt it flow through his frame with it’s raw fizzy-soda-pop power. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he felt it smooth out into a fine malt. Easier to control, just like Steffan had shown him.

“YO! Steffan!” he hollered mentally.

Carson reeled, having just heard “YO, STEFFAN” screamed into his mind, along with every living creature in the vicinity. The horses screamed, Tain awoke, swinging his spear around in a wide arc, and hitting nothing. 

“ ‘ I’d like to have a word with you about continuing my magic le-” continued Peragrine, but he was cut off by Carson’s frantic slapping.

“STOP TALKING, STOP TALKING, DAMMIT!” screamed Carson, getting Peragrine out of his… whatever he was in.

~~~~

No one was sleeping tonight. By democratic vote, they decided to keep travelling.

Chapter 5: The Crossroads of Fate, Destiny, and Luck.

It was nearly morning when the group arrived at the crossroads. As crossroads went, this was a very simple one.  A T-way intersection where the roads widened to make a large circular dirt area. In the middle was a very tall wooden signpost surrounded by hitching posts. Directions on the signpost included:

West: ‘Wishwell, Somna, ” The West sign also had a golden Crown on it, reading ‘Orlan, ~300 Miles.’

South: “Wheatgrove, Evereed, Rum-A-Tum-Tum, Port Town…”

North: “Bridge to the Unknown” Right next to this sign was a sign of a specially painted blue, which read “To Aquila,” in yellow letters. Perhaps not so unknown as it might have once been...

There were many other signs clustered around the post, pointing in all sorts of directions, but many of them were illegible. Especially ones that pointed north.

Around the center of the dirt area were other items of interest that one would find at a rest stop. On the west side, there was a large wooden shelter with picnic benches underneath it. All around were evident mounts from insects. Most likely ants. Next to that was a small stable, it’s roof showing signs of collapse. On the Southeast corner of the circle was a merchant stand, long since fallen into disrepair. In the discreet corner of the Northeast was a small collection of thin, spindly trees, surrounded by various lovely flowers that were in defiance of their dreary surroundings.

As Tain, Perry, and Carson trotted into the circle, Peragrine pointed out the old stand. “I wonder if there’s anything we can use in there.”

Tain nodded, glad that Peragrine was thinking the same thing he was.  

They tied their horses to the hitching posts by the central signpost, dumping the water that was in the troughs there, as it was clearly foul, stagnant, and contaminated.

Betsy gave Peragrine a morose look, to which Peragrine responded with,” Aw, don’t worry, gal. There’s got to be a well around here somewhere. I’ll get you something better.” 

“Good,” said Tain. “While you do that, I’ll check the stall.”

Carson turned from one party member to the other. “And I’ll just sit here on the horse, since no one can be bothered to get me down and take the prisoner for a walk.”

Tain and Perry looked at each other from across the horses, silently debating.

Tain apparently lost, as he came forward and got Carson down, making sure his hands were secure and leading him like a dog. “You’ll help me,” he said, thinking it a helpful suggestion, though it came out more as a command.

Carson just muttered indifferently and followed.

Looking around, Peragrine couldn’t immediately see a well. So he followed his common sense and went towards the plants and trees.

As he came up towards it, he saw there was a slight path, largely overgrown with flowers that went through what he could now define as a circle of trees.

“Huh! How lovely.” 

As he stepped through, the sounds of Tain, Carson, and the light wind going across the plains all became muted.  Inside, it was quiet and peaceful; still and serene. To one side, there was a well, overgrown with mossy grass and flowers. Lightning bugs and butterflies flitted through the clearing in the strange half-moonlight.  In the other, was a gravestone.

“Oh.” Peragrine was taken aback for a moment at the sudden change in atmosphere, but curiosity helped him to recover quickly. He went to the well first, and inspected the bucket he found there, as the various insects inspected him.

Both parties found their find to be respectable. Tossing the sturdy old bucket into the well, Peragrine began drawing some water as he looked around the clearing.

Was it just him, or was this clearing somewhat bigger on the inside than it had looked from the outside? He’d have to walk around the trees once he brought the bucket back.

Casting his eyes over the headstone, he found he couldn’t read it in the light that it was. Not from here. He glared into the lights of the fireflies that were collecting on his coat. 

“Hey,” he said. “Why don’t you fellas check that stone over there for me?”

With these words, he blinked and attempted to connect a tendril of his green energy to their tiny… He couldn’t even tell what color they were, they were so tiny.

Their reaction was very quick, and they zipped over eagerly to the stone.

As Peragrine began pulling the bucket full of water back up, he read the headstone that the lightning bugs were now illuminating quite well. 

“ ‘Georgia Sage, 2921 - 2954’ Huh, so only 22?” He read, as he unfastened the bucket from the rope that held it. “Gosh, that’s so young.” Hefting it against his chest, he stumbled over to the grave for a closer look. Below the professional lettering was more rough writing.

“Of … Iron Crick?” Peragrine read. “ ‘Beloved wief and mothar.” 

“He was a simple miner, my husband, but he did his best and I loved him for it.”

Peragrine whirled around, sloshing the bucket of water everywhere. “WHAAA!”

Behind him floated a tall, blue, glowing woman, in a long, flowing peasant’s dress and apron.

He scrambled back a bit, but ended up pressing against the gravestone.

Rationally, he knew that what he was seeing must be a ghost, but… this was unlike any ghost he’d ever seen before! Her features were far more animated than they should be for someone dead. And while she wasn’t a floating skeleton, he couldn’t honestly say that she was a floating fleshly human either. Her features were somewhere in between, and it made her look alien in the extreme.  Her eyes were empty white lights, there was an uncomfortable gray hole where her nose should have been, and her skin was pale, blue, and glowing...But smooth, and clean. Her lips were still perfect, her eyebrows still whole and expressive. She had both ears, which were round and human…

“Oh! Don’t be alarmed!” She exclaimed, but Peragrine very much was. She’d come out of nowhere, and she was stunning in every sense of the word, good and bad, and there were more than a few superstitions that screamed at him from his past that told him he was in deep doodoo-voodoo. Still, he attempted to be civil.

“Ar-Ar--” He squeaked.

The ghost also seemed as unsure as Peragrine was. “I’m the person who you're sitting on top of, yes.” She held out a hand, as if to pull him up, or maybe shake a hand, but then she frowned. “Uhm. Oh, yes.”

Peragrine waved a hand as he scrambled to his feet. “Are you here to-- Um, I dunno? Haunt me?” He glanced down at the now spilled and entirely empty bucket. “Sorry about wetting the place,” he said, staring at the ground.

“Haunt? Oh, no. I’m the one who’s sorry,” said the ghost. “I’m still getting used to my appearance and the effect it has on people.” Peragrine heard her groan. “You would think after 90 or so years I would be able to get a handle of being a ghost,” she muttered. “Still, I hardly ever get visitors whom I can speak with, so I guess that doesn’t help my etiquette.”

Peragrine steeled himself and looked back up at her. She seemed very tall, even if she wasn’t floating two feet off the ground. “Are you some sort of elf or something?” he asked, not filtering his thoughts from his mouth.

“Hmmm?” The ghost looked down at her long flowing dress. “Oh. No, I just don’t have feet anymore, so it all trails off into mist.” She floated down and the dress pooled around her on the grass till she was standing about even with Peragrine. “Does this feel better for conversation?”

Peragrine simply nodded, unsure what else he was supposed to do. This ghost really wasn’t here to kill him for disturbing her? Had he disturbed her?? Was this part of his magic???

The ghost smiled, but it only served to give Peragrine an icy chill down his spine. Come to think of it he was very cold now, and he couldn’t see any of the insects anymore.

“Are you go-”

“Where are-”

“I’m sorry,” Peragrine muttered. “Go ahead.”

The ghost smiled again. “Oh, that’s alr-”

“Are you going to kill me?” Peragrine blurted out.

The ghost seemed taken aback. “What?! No!”

Peragrine wasn’t assured. “Well, then… What are you doing here?”

The ghost sighed. “I’d like to ask you a favor. If you’re travelling north.”

Now it was Peragrine’s turn to blink. “A… Favor?”

The ghost nodded.  “It’s about my child. Cyndii.”

~~~~

Tain couldn’t believe his luck. Then he reminded himself there was no such thing as luck.

Yet, there it was. A whole set of Paradox Rogue Marauder gear in a crate. Collecting dust.

So, it was either luck or fate. Neither of which he was comfortable with. He decided to stop with the philosophy and just deal with the physical fact that it was here.

Carson came up behind him and peeped over his shoulder, munching an apple in his ear. “Oh damn! That’s an impressive find,” he said, unable to hide his surprise. 

Tain simply nodded and picked up the wormholer that was next to the crate, loosely covered by a leather tarp. 

He flipped it over, inspecting it for rust, ownership, ammo, and the usual tracking bugs.

No rust, identified to a ‘Olaf Wilkinson’, no ammo or power, and yes, it still had it’s GPS tracking. Though it wasn’t on, meaning this wormholer hadn’t been touched for at least 30 days. Or the independent micro battery of the GPS tracker had run out of juice because it had been here 30 days without a main power source.

Either way, whomever might have known about this being here had clearly abandoned it awhile ago.

So intent on the wormholer was he, Tain didn’t notice Carson reach into the crate and pull out the Missile Launcher that was there till he said something.

“Nice. I’ve always wanted one of these. Bet I would be a-”

Tain flipped the Wormholer around with an acrobatic grace, placing the sharp teeth of the inactive chainsaw next to Carson’s neck. “Drop it.”

Carson paused, clearly thinking about something.

Tain knew exactly what that particular something was. “You shoot a missile in here, and we both die. There’s no chance you survive.

Carson ground his teeth. The fact that Tain said he couldn’t do it just made him want to do it even more. Just to spite him. “Shut up.”

“Drop it.”

“Stop telling me what to do, and maybe I’ll listen!” Carson yelled, swinging the Missile rack at the Wormholer at his neck. 

‘How could you listen if I’m not talking?’  Tain momentarily wondered before his eyes went wide as the Missile-Rack made a sickening ‘TING!’ against the side of the Wormholer, but thankfully, the missiles did not go off. However, his Wormholer was no longer at Carson’s throat, and Carson took advantage of Tain’s surprise by leaping on top of him.

The two scuffled in the dirt floor of the stall, fist to fist.

~~~~

“Cyndii?” Peragrine echoed.

“Yes. She lives- well, not lives…” the ghost trailed off, unable to find the right word.

“Your daughter’s a ghost too?”

The Ghost sighed. “I fear so. However, she is under a curse. Unlike I, she cannot roam free. She is trapped.”

“Trapped?”

“Yes. And I want you to free her.”

~~~~

“This is freaking ridiculous.”

“Shut up.”

Carson gave an experimental wriggle. “Nope, we’re stuck.”

Tain craned his neck. Somehow, he and Carson had gotten tied up in Carson’s leash. Now Carson was breathing on his neck, and Tain wasn’t certain that if he got loose, he wouldn’t kill him.  He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, desperately trying to ignore Carson’s wriggling and breathing bundled up next to him.

Carson looked at Tain. He’d closed his eyes and was… meditating? Was he meditating? What a moron.  

He tried another experimental wriggle. Nope. Totally, solidly stuck. “I guess we could wait till the kid comes by. Then we’d be free.”

Tain held back his panic at the thought of being stuck here till Peragrine got there. He glanced down at the ropes binding them, but the only end he could see was the knot that was holding Carson’s hands. 

He considered for a moment, but a moment was all he needed. Anything was better than this. 

“I’m going to untie you,” he announced, as he wriggled his arms and hands into position. 

Carson didn’t immediately respond as the two jiggled around, but once Carson felt Tain working with the knot, he managed a quick. “Thanks,” followed closely by a much louder “Well, it’s about dang time!” right in Tain’s ear.

Tain noted the first part, and ignored the second. “Once you’re untied, do not grab any weapon, or we’ll end up doing this all over again.”

There was a pause, and just before Tain was about to ask ‘understood?’, Carson replied.

“Got it.”

A moment later, and Carson was untied. A few moments more, and the rope slacked off, and they rolled away from each other in disgust.

Tain rolled away, and grabbed the Paradox Blaster that had fallen out of the crate during their scuffle, before neatly rolling to his feet. Carson grabbed an apple, and also scrambled up. He mockingly threatened to throw the apple, then waved a hand and munched on it. “This isn’t a weapon; It’s a snack,” he muttered.

Tain couldn’t refrain from rolling his eyes, before he looked around at the mess. No crate was unturned now, and various foods in every stage of freshness to decay were lying in a heap around their feet. Also all over their clothes. Various insects were now buzzing around, disturbed by the fight. 

‘This must have been a food stand,’ he thought as he gathered up whatever was not food. This included a few medieval weapons, a first aid kit, and the full Rogue Paradox Marauder set. He set these up on the front of the stand, brushing everything else off.

Trotting over to the horses, he rummaged around for his makeshift tools that he'd worked on Typhoon with. Gathering these up, he sat down on a stool at the front of the stand and got to work on the gear.

From inside the stall, Carson sauntered up, with mostly-unharmed fruits and goodies in his arms. “Whatcha doing?”

Tain was taking the Wormholer apart. “Getting rid of the trackers.”

“Trackers?”

Tain nodded. To demonstrate, he pulled out a tiny capsule with his chopstick tweezers. The minuscule lights on it showed signs of having burnt out. He set it aside. 

Carson leaned closer on it, inspecting it curiously.

“Don’t touch it.”

“I wasn’t going to, jerk.”

Tain shrugged imperceptibly, and continued rummaging through the bowels of the machine. Stripping off some of the bulky armor, it opened up to a lot more wires and fuel lines, and Carson observed as Tain expertly stripped it to it’s most basic parts. He only slowed down to remove another bug, this one looking more like a fuzzy mote.

“Microphone,” Tain explained. He carefully set it aside with the GPS tracker.

Shortly afterward, he moved on to the other pieces, stripping them down, removing bugs carefully, and then reconstructing them with much less bulk.  

Carson watched on, very impressed, and only partially hiding it. Halfway through the Helmet, Tain groaned in disgust. 

“There’s too much here. Too many cameras, too many microphones. Too many backups, since this is connected right to the communications.”

Carson just nodded.

Tain picked up the helmet and chucked it behind him. “Not worth it.”

Carson handed Tain a mostly unwrinkled apple. Tain took it and munched grouchily while he worked on the boots.

~~~~

Peragrine closed his eyes and reached out to the Ghost. To Georgia. Mrs. Sage. “It’s a deal.” 

He shook her hand, and she gasped. When Peragrine opened his eyes, motes of light were falling from her orb-like eyes. The ghost- No, Mrs. Sage, was crying. 

“Thank you.”

Peragrine smiled. It was a soft smile, and not one he’d made in a long time. It felt strange on his usually grinning face. “You’re welcome.”

She glanced down at his hand, holding hers. “Tell me… Have you ever been dead before?”

Peragrine raised both eyebrows in alarm. “Um, no?!”

With her other hand, Georgia pointed to the shaking hands. “Then I don’t see how this is possible.”

Peragrine glanced down at his warm, colorful, flush hand in the icy cold, pale, almost porcelain hand of Georgia’s.  “It’s magic. I’m learning about it, but I can do lots of surprising things. Like talking to you for one!” he looked up. “I’ve seen ghosts before, but never quite like this.”

Georgia grew thoughtful, but at last shrugged. “Either way, it is a blessing to me.” She finally let go of the handshake. “I do not know if I shall be able to keep pace with you, but I will try to. If not, I shall see you there!”

Peragrine nodded. “You got it!”

And with this, Peragrine watched as Georgia swished upward, and flew away through the trees, to the north.

~~~~

Tain put on the final boot. 

“Alright. I’ll admit it. You make that armor look great,” Carson said, leaning against the stand.

Tain looked down at himself. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wearing some armor. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the familiar weight of it. Also how weak he’d gotten in prison despite his best efforts. He’d have to get used to it again.

Carson nudged the Wormholer on the counter. “Go on, Rogue Square, let’s see what you can do with your fancy, gutted Wormholer.”  He pointed at a collection of boulders tastefully lining the far edge of the crossroads leading south. “What can you do to those?”

Tain’s head swiveled between Carson, the Wormholer, and the intended targets. It would be good practice. Hardly a challenge, but good to see if everything was in working order. 

In one fluid motion, Tain pulled the now-loaded Wormholer off the counter, swung around, and began firing at the boulders immediately.

In mere seconds, the rocks were reduced to rubble, and the wormholer spun to a grumbling stop. Proud of himself, he smiled.

Behind him, Carson laughed. “BRILLIANT!”

Tain turned around.  Carson was grinning ear to ear, and almost jumping up and down with excitement. 

“HECK YEAH!” Carson cackled, a wicked gleam in his eyes, a devious smirk on his lips.

Hadn’t he’d seen Paradox firearms before? Of course he had. What was getting him so worked up about this display?

“You decimated those rocks!” Carson cheered. “Why, if those had been other Rogues or guards or something, you would have OBLITERATED them before they even got a ‘Halt, prisoners!’ off!” Carson whooped. 

Tain glanced back at the rubble. It was still smoking with the power of the Wormholer in his hands...

Carson was right. He would have.  

Just then, Peragrine rushed out of the trees to the stalls right, lugging a bucket of water.

“Is everything ok?! Are we under a- Hey, now!” Peragrine stopped short, seeing Tain all dressed up in the Paradox Rogue Marauder gear with the wormholer. “Where’d you get the spiffy new duds?”

Carson shoved a thumb at the stall. “It was hiding in there like it was specially delivered, Kid.”

Unable to take his eyes off of Tain’s awesome outfit, Peragrine sloppily dumped the water into the trough, which the thirsty horses quickly drank. Setting down the bucket, Peragrine came over to the others.

“Wow.” Peragrine said. “The Valiant, Rank 3, and everything.”

Tain suddenly felt slightly self-conscious as Peragrine came over and inspected.

“Something’s off about it.”

Carson kicked some of the extra armor and padding that Tain had extracted. It lay at the foot of the stall. “Doc modified it. You know he used to be a Rogue himself, right?” Carson said casually.

Peragrine froze briefly, staring at Tain’s boots. Tain tensed up, uncertain how Peragrine would react. Had he'd told him yet? He couldn't remember...!

Peragrine glanced up at Tain, his eyes… surprisingly cool. “Really?” he asked.

Tain nodded slowly, as Carson grinned cruelly behind him. 

“Oh yeah! He’s an ex-rogue! Went on a few different missions, I think. Then he went rogue from the rogues. Got the nickname Rogue Square. Get it? ‘Cause he’s a Rogue Rogue. A double agent for the already double agents. A triple agent!” Carson mocked. “A flippant flip-flopper of the most fiendish find!”

Peragrine straightened up, his face very neutral. Tain remained completely still. Carson continued to roast Tain.

Then Perargrine smiled, and Tain saw Peragrine’s naturally upbeat personality rush back. “That’s good to know!” He slapped an arm on Tain’s armored shoulder. “It suits you well!” Peragrine turned back to grab the bucket again. “Speaking of stuff you need to know, I want to show you guys something!”

Carson stopped short. “Wait. What?!” He glanced between Tain and Peragrine, stunned that his big revelation hadn’t caused any interesting drama or fireworks. “That’s it? You just take this in stride?!”

Tain breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, as Carson stalked off after Peragrine. Then he followed as well.

~~~~

Peragrine lead them into the grove of trees. “Isn’t it lovely in here?”

Carson looked around. It was indeed very serene. “Gah. It’s so quaint, it’s disgusting,” he said. “All it’s missing is fairies.”

Tain came in behind him. He noted immediately the way the trees hemmed in closer than it had seemed from outside. Biting back some irrational nervousness, he focused on Peragrine, who was lowering the bucket into a well.

“Anyway, I found a ghost here!”

Tain’s irrational nervousness suddenly became slightly more rational. His eyebrows shot into his hair, while Carson voiced his concerns for him

“You what?!”

Peragrine pointed to the right of the well. There, against the treeline, sat a tombstone. 

“Yeah. She scared the living daylights out of me at first. Well, almost.” Peragrine patted himself. “I guess not all of the living daylights.” He chuckled. 

Carson backed up, surprised by the sudden appearance of the tombstone. Backing up, he bumped into Tain, who stepped away, irritated by the invasion of his space. Honestly, he’d had enough of Carson getting in his space today.

For Carson’s part, after bumping into Tain, he straightened up and stared down the tombstone, almost daring the ghost to rise.

Peragrine continued as he fiddled with the well. “Once she calmed me down, because honestly, she was very frightening- Didn’t have a nose, how unnatural is that?!- she asked me if I could do her a favor.”

“Favor?” Tain echoed, as he came forward with Carson to inspect the gravestone.

“Yeah. She said that if we’re taking the North road, could we stop by in a deserted town called ‘Iron Crick’ and free her daughter from the collapsed coal mine she’s in.”

Tain looked back at Peragrine, sudden concern in his eyes. “There’s a child stuck in a coal mine?” He repeated. “Right now?”

“Yeah, that’s what I-”

Tain straightened up. “Then what are we doing here? Every second is-”

Peragrine glanced back at Tain, confused by his reaction at first, but then: “Oh! No, she’s already dead.”

The color drained from Tain’s face, and got replaced by confusion.

Peragrine explained quickly. “I need to free her ghost. Not the… well. Living body.”

Tain stared at Peragrine, prompting him to continue. Carson flicked his attention between the two.

Peragrine pointed at the Tombstone. “Georgia Sage. Lived a long time ago. In Iron Crick, up the road. Had a child. Child had friends, real and imaginary. Cute little girl named Cyndii Sage. One day, Cyndii and her neighbor friends go and play, and don’t come back for dinner. Apparently, they did this often enough that Mrs. Sage didn’t worry till after dinner. After dinner Mr. and Mrs. Sage go looking for Cyndii and the others with those other parents, but a terrible storm comes up and drenches everything. They can’t find them anywhere.”

Peragrine paused. “Mrs. Sage sorta didn't go into detail much after that, and it doesn’t all make sense, but basically, I need to free Cyndii’s soul from the collapsed mine that they got stuck in. I promise I'd look into it since we’ll be heading that way anyway.” 

Peragrine brightened up. “In return, Mrs. Sage told me she’d scout the road ahead for us! She swears that the road all the way to Iron Crick is clear of patrols! This part of Morcia’s really not patrolled much, since there’s really not much of an economy out here beyond farming. And that’s all been centralized by thedude around Thunderclap and Orlan now.”

Tain frowned. He wasn't sure such a deal was in their- or rather, Peragrine's favor. Especially considering the source.

‘A Ghost?’ Tain thought. He’d never seen a ghost, though he’d heard plenty of tales and legends. Weren't ghosts usually signs of evil, darkness, and curses?

“Great, so now you’re getting haunted by total strangers,” Carson muttered. “Taking obligations from beyond the freakin’ bloody grave. What are you now, Wizard Kid, an occult channeler???”

Peragrine shrugged, smiling. “It was surprising, but if it turns out I can help someone, living or not, find peace, I’m not just going to ignore them.”

Tain shook his head. “Are you sure it was a ghost? That it meant no harm whatsoever to you? To us?”

Peragrine focused on Tain, re-evaluating his conversation with Mrs. Sage briefly. “As certain as I can be, considering it was the most intense ghost encounter I’ve ever had.”

Carson spluttered. “You’ve seen other ghosts?!”

Peragrine’s thoughtful gaze on Tain turned back into a grin for Carson. “Oh yeah! Even before I became the ‘Wizard Kid’, my Uncle and I had a brief stint as paranormal ghost-hunters.” His smile faltered.  “...I wonder what my Uncle’s doing now…”

Once again, Tain shook his head. If this ghost had already left to scout the road ahead, then there wasn’t much they could don about it now. He just hoped Peragrine knew what he was doing…

Carson looked back at the tombstone, then shivered violently. “No. Nononono. I didn’t sign up for any of this lunacy!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Peragrine. “You better keep this freakish magic voodoo under control, Kid, and away from me, or there’s going to be HELL to pay.” He took a final glance at the stone, before shivering again and heading for the exit to the grove. 

“I’m leaving; this place gives me the flippin’ willies.” he said, before turning back abruptly to look back at Tain. “You going to stop me?”

Tain turned back to Peragrine, who’s demeanor had further deflated under Carson’s words.

“Let me know as soon as you see this ‘ghost’.” Tain said. “I want to judge it for myself.” Then, he turned away and left with Carson.

Peragrine nodded belatedly to himself. “Yeah. Sure.”

~~~~ 

Tain and Carson set up camp, while Peragrine finished taking care of the mounts. Risking a little fire, they made a meal of a decent, if watery, stew. 

It would be only an hour or two before sunrise, but a little sleep was better than none, especially with the general trepidation of the road ahead that was present on everyone’s mind.

Peragrine once again offered to keep watch.

“I’m not tired at all!” Peragrine said. “And I won’t do anymore magical screaming,” he added, smiling apologetically.

Carson grumbled something better left unknown, and Tain nodded wearily. “Just so long as you leave off the magic experiments for tonight.”

Peragrine nodded, but he couldn’t hide a flash of disappointment. “Yeah. That’s fair.”

Tain noted Peragrine’s forced cheerful demeanor. Something was bothering the young magician. Briefly, Tain considered what it could be, and got multiple possibilities… The Ghost, Not being able to handle his magic, his concern for Tain, Carson… There was a lot, and Tain wasn’t sure how he could alleviate any of those worries. Especially when he shared a lot of them himself. 

He decided there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Not without knowing what particular issue it was that was bothering him. If it really was just one issue. And he wasn’t about to ask and start a huge conversation like that right now. Better to simply take note and sleep on it.

So that’s what he did.

Soon enough, Peragrine was left to his own thoughts as all his traveling companions, human and equine, were fast asleep. Some snoring, others silent. All dreaming their own dreams.

Except for Peragrine, who thought wistfully about his Uncle.

~~~~~

Chapter 6: Into Iron Crick

Carson’s eyes flashed open. There was a terrible, disorienting moment where he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing or where he was. Why he was so cold. So stiff. Unable to move.

Then his muscles responded to the fact he was awake and trying to sit up. Stiffly, they responded, and his head cleared.

“Well, heck.”

Another day. 

Another miserable day. 

As a prisoner to his once-prisoners. 

More irony to shove down his gullet and suck on for… Hell if he knew how long.

‘This is my life now,’ thought Carson. ‘Could it be worse?’ he wondered. 

Then the sun came over the horizon and lanced him full in the eyes.

“AH! G-, WHY?!”

~~~~

The threesome had a quick, but decent and warm breakfast, due to Peragrine having gathered materials for a fire over the past few hours while watching. Upon having everyone up, and Tain agreeing it was safe, Peragrine light them magically.  Peragrine was his cheery self, and did most of the talking while Tain, Carson, and all the animals did their best to either listen or ignore while they ate.

Soon enough, the three were saddling up to head north.  Carson scrambled up onto the Mule, and looked back at Tain, who stood watching him as he double-checked the lead rope connecting the Mule to Cooper.

“Well?” Carson asked. “Where’s my rope?”

On the other side of the Mule, Perry steered Betsy over, curious. “Tain?”

Tain stared at Carson’s ankles. “...No.” Then he turned back to Cooper, and saddled up. 

“No?” Carson echoed. “Whaddya mean, ‘No’, Doc?”  He turned to Perry as the lead rope pulled taut and the mule lurched forward after Cooper. “Think he’s gone daft.”

Peragrine smiled as he watched Tain and Cooper for a moment. “He means ‘no rope’, Carson. Just hold your seat on the mule, and we’ll all be fine.” He leaned over and attempted to pat Carson on the back, but Carson deflected it with a wave of his now free-to-use arms. In response, Peragrine chuckled, and trotted off to the front, striking up a conversation with Betsy. 

“I say, it’s a lovely day for a new challenge! What do you smell on the wind today, Betsy, my young gal?”

The day passed. For Carson, it was dull as ever, even without the rope. Even the weather seemed to agree, staying cloudy and overcast the whole time they traveled. He still slumped in his saddle, fighting off drowsiness as he tried to keep his seat. 

The only interesting change was that he could root through the bags when Tain wasn’t looking. 

By the time noon rolled around, he had a fairly decent idea of where everything was. Given the rest of the day, he was certain he’d memorize it. And that gave him something to do. Something outside of just resting his chin in between the Mule’s ears anyway.

Around noon, they stopped to stretch their legs. The sky had grown increasingly dark, and Tain eyed the heavy clouds with trepidation. He turned to Peragrine, who also took note of the clouds. 

“Hey, maybe we’ll get to Iron Crick by then!” Peragrine replied cheerily to Tain’s silent doubts.

Carson glanced up. “No. We’re going to drown in an open field. I’ve never seen such dark clouds.”

Tain glanced darkly at Carson. Of course he’d never seen such dark clouds. He’d never been on the road as much as he had been these… past few days. 

Carson turned his attention back to earth, and Tain quickly looked elsewhere.

As they got back on their mounts, Tain considered their options.

As far as he could see, there was no cover on these plains for miles. Supposedly, the town of Iron Crick was just over the northern horizon according to their map. Directly west, the grass rapidly grew shorter and shorter, till it gave way abruptly to gravel and sand. The small desert of Morcia. To their far Northwest were hills that began the border between Ankoria and Morcia. They would be steering that way soon enough, as soon as they got a bit more miles out of the clear road…

The only other notable feature was to their far Northeast. The very Tip of Mount Thunderclap was visible on the horizon. Dark, and looming in the current overcast lighting. Tain only looked at it when his sense of alertness called for him to sweep his eyes over that way for patrols. 

It seemed to him that if it was going to rain, (and it certainly did look that way,) then their two best options were to forge ahead through the rain to the hills and hope for natural cover that way, or gamble on the abandoned ghost town of Iron Crick…

Two things decided this for him.

A terrifying clap of thunder, and the appearance of a distant building on the horizon. Followed by a torrent of rain.

“WHAT-” screamed Carson.  “THE ACTUAL-” 

KRA-KOW! Another lightning strike erupted only meters away from the group, drowning out Carson's panicked profanity and frightening the mounts. Betsy and the mule both screamed and brayed, and while Betsy took off down the road with Peragrine, the Mule remained tied to Cooper, who merely skittered nervously,  much to Tain's welcome surprise.

“Good stallion,” Tain said. Then he spurred Cooper forward, a direction that both Cooper and the Mule eagerly complied with.

“Head for the building up ahead!” Tain yelled, hoping Peragrine could hear him and control his horse.

Carson struggled to maintain his seat on the janky ride of his ungainly galloping mule that struggled to keep up with Tain's thoroughbred horse. He managed to look up in the downpour.

The town was just barely in view through the rainfall. However, what drew his attention was the warm, inviting light coming from the lower windows of the first big building they were coming up on. A big 2 story Inn or something of the like.

“How did we not see that before?!” Carson yelled. “You're all USELESS!”

Briefly, Tain wondered that as well. It was almost as if the Inn had appeared at the same time the storm had started. But that was preposterous. Besides, it looked quite real and tangible against the equally real and tangible rain pummeling them.

Any harbor in a storm, right?

After what felt like torturous hours, but was perhaps merely minutes the two horses, one mule, and their riders all arrived at the door to the tall, imposing Inn. Peragrine sloshed his way to the door, only to have it open before him.

“Come in, travellers! Come in. Get dry.”

Peragrine looked up from where the doorknob had been. Directly at his eye level was another face. An honest face. The kind you wish your doctor or your dad had. Like a teddy bear, humanized.

That is to say, he had soft, liquid  brown eyes, a big, fluffy-curly full beard, and a perfectly, delightfully, crinkly smile. Yet he only seemed to be in his 30s. Perhaps 40s. Beards hide a lot.

“I saw you all madly dashing across the plain. Won’t you come in out of the rain?”

Peragrine refocused on the words of the speaker, as Tain and Carson crowded him from behind.

“What's the hold up, Wiz-Kid?! I'm catching pneumonia standing out here!” yelled Carson, punctuating this with an all too real sneeze.

“Oh! Right!” Peragrine willed his foot past the door, and a shiver ran up and down his spine, leaving him even more chilled than he's been standing outside. It took him a moment, but then he realized.

“Wow. This place is STUFFED with magic.” he said. He blinked twice, and exclaimed in alarm as his vision was covered in inky blackness. A representation of the magic pervading the room.

“Oh, so you’re a magician of some sort?” The stranger’s voice called. Peragrine felt him leading him further into the warm wooden boarded room, and heard his friends come in after him. “Bring the horses in too. Alas, I don’t have stables for them, and they’ll surely die out there in that forsaken weather. Yes, bring them in, I insist.”

Peragrine blinked twice more, and his vision cleared. “That’s really kind of you. You don’t mind the wet horse smell?”

The man shook his head. “Not at all. You said you sensed magic?”

Peragrine grinned. “Why yes! I-” and he made a grand sweeping bow, flinging rainwater everywhere from his drenched leather coat. “-Am a young Wizard.”

Behind him, Carson audibly facepalmed. Tain frowned, but thinking quickly, he stepped forward. “Are you the owner?” he asked, as he began to peel off his outer clothes.

“Why yes!” the man said, as he helped Peragrine out of his coat, and rushed to catch the other’s coats as they took them off. “What can I do you three for?”

Carson tossed his outer layers at the man, and continued to strip down to his undergarments. “I’ll take a hot chocolate by the fire over there. And some blankets if you’re able,” he said as he attempted to remove his soaked socks while hopping over to the cracking, merry fireplace across the main room.

The man gave a brief nod to Carson, replying with a “Of course, sir, just as soon as I am able,” before turning back to Tain and Peragrine.

Tain motioned to Peragrine. “Is it true then, what my-- What the kid says?”

“That there’s magic in the air?”

Tain nodded. Peregrine sat down on the floor and began pulling off his boots and socks as well, though he kept his sopping wet leather pants on.

The Innkeeper’s smile froze for a moment as he stared at Peragrine, and Tain could tell he was contemplating something. His hand instinctively drifted to his Wormholer, which was strapped to Cooper’s side.

“Magic is everywhere,” said the Innkeeper, finally looking at Tain. “But yes, especially here.” He hefted the pile of dripping clothes onto the clean, gleaming, wooden Bar Counter, and began separating them based on to whom they belonged to.  “But you needn’t worry. This magic means no harm to you.”

“What about my-” Tain froze, unable to find the right word. 

“Your friends?” The Innkeeper finished. He turned, and looked past Tain to Carson and Peragrine who were huddling by the fire, both shirtless, and one in only his panties while the other was only in rolled up leather leggings.

“Of that, I am uncertain.” The innkeeper said. 

 Suddenly, Tain noticed Peragrine shiver.

~~~~

Suddenly, Peargrine shivered. Even though he was sitting next to the warm fireplace, he felt like ice water had just been dumped on him from above. He looked up, and couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but his spine continued to tingle up and down.

A moment ago, this room had been cozy and warm, like any well built wood interior. Now it felt like an igloo. Still cozy, but cold.

“What is it?” Tain called, from across the room. 

Next to Peragrine, Carson edged away, giving him a wary look. “You alright, kid?”

Realization dawned on Peragrine, as he recognized the chilling sensation. He slowly turned to Tain. 

“I think there’s a ghost here.”

Just then, Betsy and the other mounts stirred with unease as the various fire-based light sources either blew out or were greatly diminished, and a chill gripped everyone. 

“OH HECK, NO!” Carson squealed. Peregrine whipped around just in time to see the panicked expression of Carson, just before a hideous blue-white visage tackled him from behind, sending him face-first to the ground.

“No!” exclaimed Peragrine, belatedly trying to grab the ghost. But he was too late, and the blue-white light from the ghost disappeared into Carson.

Meanwhile, Tain turned to the Innkeeper. “Whatever protection I have, it must be extended to my friends. Tell that to your magics and your ghosts.”

The Innkeeper turned from Peragrine and Carson, and looked directly at Tain, who found he could not look away.

“My good sir. I don’t control the ghosts and magic. I only know certain things about them.” He turned back to Peragrine, who was picking Carson up off the floor. “Though I think you will meet her forthwith.”

As Peragrine pulled Carson up, his fears were confirmed as his eyes fluttered open.

Carson’s eyes were yellow-white orbs, glowing, and pupiless. And when he spoke…

“Hello, living ones!”

...It still sounded like Carson? But trying to sound like an 80 year old woman?

“Heh. hehehehe.” Peregrine giggled despite himself. 

“Carson?” Tain asked from across the room.

Peregrine turned around. “Tain, dunno how to tell you this,” He hefted Carson’s still rather limp, under-dressed form. “But, ah, um, CARSON’S BEEN POSSESSED. BY A WOMAN.”

‘Carson’ nodded. “Don’t worry, I intend to leave him in the same condition I found him.” the ghost said cheerfully.

Tain and the Innkeeper walked over.

“Hello Sylvia, glad you could make an appearance,” the Innkeeper said as he walked over.

‘Carson/Sylvia’ looked down and extricated… themselves, from Peragrine’s supporting grip. “Yes. So am I. Even if it’s not a perfect match.” They chuckled along with the Innkeeper.

Peregrine glanced between the two. “So, are you two friends?”

Tain came up on the other side of the two. “And what do you want with us?”

The Innkeeper and Slyvia/Carson exchanged a look, and then the Innkeeper put an arm around Carson like an old Buddy… In his Underwear. “Friends by necessity, you could say. And as for what we want with the two of you-”

Sylvia raised a hand. “Three of them.”

“Right, three… It will take some explaining, so before I begin, do any of you want something to drink?” He pointed behind the bar, to a number of huge Barrels. “Or to eat? We have practically anything you can think of.”

Carson/Sylvia’s stomach gurgled. The Innkeeper looked at them in surprise.

“It would appear that this host is a fan of his food and drink, but as you know, John, I don’t drink,” Sylvia/Carson said. 

John rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and replied. “Very well, I shall get a snack and some of the ever-present rainwater.” He looked at the very awkward other two. “Anything for you two?”

Tain was on the verge of panic. Clearly, it wasn’t safe to be here. They were down 1 man, and he somehow guessed that they we’re going to be able to leave peacefully now, even if they could leave Carson behind… Could they leave Carson?

No. The thought was a tempting one. A convenient solution, but not one he would be able to live with.  He may not like Carson, but there was a reason why he hadn’t just killed or stranded him somewhere where he wouldn’t be found by thedude’s forces. And this… This could be worse than death.

Tain shook his head in the negative in response to the Innkeeper, ‘John’s’ inquiry.

At the same time, Peregrine was thinking. Though distracted by the clashing sights and sounds of Slyvia/Carson, he realized the danger of the situation as acutely as Tain did. Only, it didn’t worry him. It gave him nervous energy that he could use. Still, it might be best to steady himself for the moment, and listen to what they had to say.

“I’ll have a pint of something simple.”

“A light beer then!” Innkeeper John said, reaching underneath the counter and pulling out a wooden mug.

Tain gave Peragrine a dark glance, but he didn’t seem to notice.

While John sorted out some refreshments for himself, Sylvia/Carson, and Peragrine, Tain motioned Peragrine over. 

As Peragrine walked over, Sylvia/Carson watched them curiously from the warm fire.

“What's up, Doc? “ Peragrine asked in a low voice.

“We need to get out of here. The innkeeper said I was safe from the magic here, but-” 

At that moment, Peragrine shivered once again, from head to toe. His eyes snapped up to Tain's concerned look.

“There's another one,” Peragrine whispered.

“Where?” Tain asked, whirling around.

“I’m not sure, it’s just, I get a shivery chill when-”

Then, it came. Dropping down from the ceiling, visible to Tain as a silvery shadow, and to Peragrine as… well, as the ghost, Mrs. Georgia Sage.

Betsy and the Mule both panicked, and reared, but since there was nowhere to go for them in the entryway, they remained where they were, if noisily jittering about. Cooper snorted, and appeared to pen the other two in of his own accord.

“I apologize for spooking you all, but you all need to hear this: This Tavern disappeared without a trace when I lived here 80-some years ago, in a storm just like this one!” the ghost of Georgia Sage said.

Tain turned to Peragrine. “Is this your friend?” he said, resisting from grabbing his Wormholer, as Peragrine addressed it.

Peregrine nodded as he replied. “Mrs. Sage, it’s good to see you.”

Mrs. Sage nodded, but she seemed very concerned. “I don’t know why it’s reappeared now. It just flashed into existence here just as the rain started!” She flew close to Peragrine, who stood his ground, while Tain backed away. “I don’t trust it!” she whispered to him.

Tain leaned around the ghost to look at Peragrine. “I can’t make out all that she’s saying. It’s all-”

“Ghosty?” Peregrine offered.

“Indistinct. The Tavern came out of nowhere, but it’s been here before?”

Mrs. Sage turned to speak directly to Tain, but a loud crash made them all turn to see John, who had just returned from the kitchen and dropped his tray full of everyone’s refreshments.

He and Carson/Sylvia seemed both very alarmed at the sight of Mrs. Sage.

John flicked his attention to Tain, and with a sudden intensity asked, “Soldier, what is the date?”

Tain’s guard was up. He wasn’t going to tell this man anything till he explained what was going on in this insane establishment. “Why? I don’t trust you.”

“Iron Creek, 3041 AF…!” Carson/Sylvia said, opening their previously closed eyes.

John nodded. “Ah, Thank you Sylvia.”

Sylvia/Carson nodded back, giving an unnerving smile. Or perhaps it was just because it was using Carson’s face. “This host gave the information unwillingly, but you’ll be glad to know, John, that they mean us no harm.” The possessed Carson began twitching uncomfortably.

“That’s good to know,” he said. “I hope you didn’t hurt him.”

Carson/Sylvia’s smile cracked a bit. “I will have to let this host go to ensure that.”

“Ah.” John turned back to Tain and the others. “Could you all keep your friend from violence, or shall I get some rope?”

Peragrine stepped forward. “We’d be more than happy to. Just let him go, please.”

Carson/Sylvia nodded, and as Peragrine grabbed his friend by the arms, the ghost of Sylvia extricated itself from the body of Carson, and Carson collapsed into Peragrine’s arms.

But only for a moment. 

“GAAAH!” Carson yelled, waving his arms around, and breaking Peragrine’s hold. He looked around wildly, and upon seeing the two ghosts on either side of him, he edged as far away from both as he could, putting him directly on Peragrine’s shoulder.

“Kid, if you get us out of this, I swear I'll make your death at my hands quick and painless.”

Peragrine thought about it, as he finally got a good look at the Ghost of Sylvia. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Sylvia was the epitome of a witch. A freakishly large and spectral hook of a nose extended from her wrinkled and craggy face, with deep-sunk, yellow, orb-like eyes, under heavy, bushy, shadowy eyebrows. Unlike Georgia, Sylvia was not all white and blue, but instead had yellows, blacks, and grays mixed in with the usual spectral blues and whites. Her spectral robes were tattered and ripped, and she appeared shorter than Georgia, though again, there were no visible feet or legs. 

To top off this fearsome visage, Sylvia was smiling. A grin that reached inhumanly from the furthest end of one cheek to the furthest end of the other, as if made of plasticine. 

“There!” She said. “Safe and sound. I just had to dig around for the right information, no lasting effects.” She paused. “At least, I don’t think so.”

Carson and Peragrine looked at her, then back at each other. Then back to Tain, who stared back at them. They all clearly saw their own thoughts reflected in each other. 

‘ ‘ ‘We have to get the heck out of here.’ ‘ ‘

Before they could enact upon this shared thought, however, the ghost of Georgia Sage drifted towards the others.

“Excuse me, but could you two explain what this Tavern is doing here? She turned from John to Sylvia. Then she paused, uncertain. 

“Do… I know you?”

There was a huge, menacing silence, in which Peragrine watched Sylvia’s face soften and contort into a more human appearance, reminiscent of an extremely aged woman. “Yes, Georgia. You once called me your ‘Guardian Angel’.” Sylvia dropped her gaze, seeming ashamed. “I think I’ve failed in that regard, but perhaps the Tavern has led me back here to atone for it.”

“What do you mean?”

Sylvia lifted her head up. “I am the reason your daughter is cursed. Though to be fair, she did embrace it near the end.”

Tain nudged Peragrine with an elbow. Peregrine ripped away his gaze from the ghosts to Tain, who pointed silently at the door. On Peragrine’s other side, Carson held onto Peragrine’s arm tightly, but he too looked at Tain’s direction and nodded vigorously, gently pushing Peragrine in that direction. 

The three shuffled away, as Peragrine continued to listen to the ghost’s conversation, juicy as it was.

“What do you mean, stranger? Explain yourself!”

“It’s likely you blocked the memory from your mind. I was not kind to you when we first met, Georgia.” Sylvia said. 

“When was that?”

Sylvia sighed a ghostly sigh that echoed and reverberated eerily in the large room. “The day, or rather, the night, the Tavern disappeared. I had picked you out as a suitable host for my blood ritual.”

“Blood ritual?!”

“Yes. I had intended to only use you as an anchor to keep me here when the Tavern left, but it only partially worked. When the Tavern left, as is its wont, it ripped my body from my soul, and I became a ghost. I had escaped this accursed Tavern, at the cost of my own body. But instead, I had yours.”

“You possessed me?!”

“Only at night.”

“At… Night.”

“Yes. At first, I will admit, I… Was frustrated with the limits. I couldn’t do anything I wanted with only nights. It rather felt like I’d traded one prison for a slightly better prison. When dawn came, you would immediately take control as you awoke, and I was stuck watching disembodied till night came again. With little exceptions.”

By this time, Tain, Carson, and Peragrine had reached the door and the horses. Outside, the storm was whipping up a frenzy.

“Quickly,” Tain whispered, as he put a hand on the door. Carson nodded his understanding, and Peragrine cast one last glance at the two ghosts, and John.

Who was staring right at them.

“Uh, guys?” Peregrine whispered, but both Tain and Carson were now shoving the heavy oak door open.

Right in front of a thunderstrike.

KRAK-KOOM!!! 

Carson gave a yelp, and fell back, even as Tain did, without a sound. Both were unhurt, if greatly alarmed. They both fell back at the feet of a suddenly very close Innkeeper John. 

Peregrine blinked. He hadn’t even seen him move!

“I’m afraid this is how it always is. You’re not allowed to leave just yet,” the great bearded man said, towering over them.

Both Tain and Carson had had enough of this. With one motion, they both grabbed the nearest ankle of John, and hauled on him, to bring him down. 

Instead, they drew themselves up, and around John’s immovable ankles.

John viewed them casually. “Well. That must be embarrassing for you.”

Tain pushed away from him, sliding back towards Peragrine, and twisting into a sitting position that he scrambled to get up from.

Carson instead went on the offensive, grabbing one of John’s arms that were clasped behind his back, and pulled himself up to a standing position, where he wound up and slugged John across the face with a nasty haymaker.

To this, John stumbled and reeled. A gasp escaped him, and he flopped onto the bar, grasping it to not fall.

“Stupid magic,” he muttered, before turning back to Tain and Carson. “I told you, soldier, I can’t control the magic.” He pointed at his newly mashed-in eye. “I never know what it’s going to do next.”

Carson rushed forward to press the attack, but this time, John was ready to defend himself, and he settled into a practiced brawler’s stance, easily blocking all of Carson’s admittedly vicious, but untrained, attacks.

“I don’t want to hurt your servant,” John said, directing his words at Tain, “but neither do I feel like continually defending myself. Mind calling him off?”

“I’M NO ONE’S DAMN SERVANT!!!” screamed Carson, slugging John a final three times to punctuate this fact that he actually sent John up and over the bar.

Tain’s eyebrows shot up. If the circumstances were not so stressful, he would have smiled. That was a brilliant shot. He was glad that he’d made a sort of peace with his ‘servant’ back at the crossroads. 

Peregrine blinked. Was it just him, or had he just seen some red energy flare off of Carson? Peregrine shook his head. It had to be all this excess energy in the Tavern.

“Nice shot, Carson! Now, let’s go!” Peragrine yelled, turning to the horses and the door.

“No! You don’t understand!” John called, as he tried to stand up from behind the counter. Surprisingly, other than a very nicely blackening eye, he seemed unharmed from Carson’s impressive assault.

From the other two, Mrs. Sage’s voice echoed to Peragrine.  “Wait, Master Wanderthistle! This woman can help us with my daughter!”

Peregrine turned to the ghosts. The kindly, yet alien, blue-white light of the bizarrely deformed Mrs. Sage, shadowed by the creepy, shifting visage of the yellow-gray Sylvia. 

Then, Peregrine’s attention was pulled in yet another direction, as Tain yanked on Peragrine’s shoulder. “Perry, we need to go.”

Peregrine snapped his fingers, and all of their clothes flew at them, as they rushed through the door along with their horses.

As Peragrine collided with the doorway and the horses and Tain, and his clothes that hit him from behind, and the yelling of all parties involved, everything went white.

Chapter 7: Perpetual Consequences.

Tain’s eyes snapped open. Darkness. He was lying down. Covered. 

‘Think. What do I last remember?’ 

The Tavern, running through the door. A flash. Clothes.

That’s what was covering him. Clothes. The sounds of an open field, consistent wind. He got up to his feet. 

He was in the middle of a mess of clothes, horses, and travelling companions. Behind him, a huge blackened site, where the Tavern had stood.

Beyond that, the Town of Iron Crick.

“Crux.”

He looked around. No sign of ghosts. No all-powerful Innkeepers. No trace of the nightmare Tavern. Except for the gigantic black lightning-struck area in front of him. Even the storm that had accompanied it’s sudden appearance had completely disappeared from the sky, leaving behind a lavender-gray one. The sun was hiding amidst some thick, but fluffy, clouds. It was still darker than it should have been, for the hour, and gloomy… But that seemed to compliment Tain’s current mood. A bright sunny day after… whatever all that had been would have been irritating.

He turned back to his travelling companions, who were still lacking in the clothing department.

He knelt down next to Peragrine, and wondered if he should shake him awake. 

“Well, Peregrine doesn’t worry about personal space so… I guess so?”

So, he gently grabbed Peragrine’s bare shoulders and… jiggled him.

No response.

Tain turned to his other charge. Carson was snoring. 

Annoyed with both of them, and himself, he decided waking the horses and Mule would be easier.

~~~~~

Later, after he'd woken up, Peregrine stared at the blackened plot of land as he sipped some of the worst cold coffee he’d ever had.

It was foul. Really, bad. Worse than when he’d replaced coffee with compost dirt for April Fools and then had forgotten he’d done so and drank some with his Uncle.

But it didn’t really matter. Everything else was terrible too. 

Somehow, the entire Tavern had disappeared when they’d left it. John, Sylvia, and most importantly, Mrs. Sage. All gone. Peregrine had already tried closing his eyes and reaching out for any ghost-chills. Not that he was any good at it, but he didn’t sense anything within a country mile.

Carson was a wreck, Tain was stone-silent, all three horses were still shivering, and not just with the cold…

No one really wanted to get moving again. The silence of their own minds was all they desired after their encounter with… such unnatural forces.

Suddenly, Peregrine stood up. The simple motion was loud in the pervading silence as his coat rustled and his leather boots creaked.

“I’m going into town.” He announced as he turned to face the other two, then slugged the rest of the coffee down his gullet, wishing it was something a bit more fortifying. Finally, to punctuate this news, he dashed the tin cup on the ground. “Ya’ll don’t need to follow me, I’ll meet up with you on the other side!”

Carson stared at Peragrine’s retreating form, barely hiding his panic as he sipped his own terrible coffee. “Great, yeah, good luck not dying and all that.” He turned to a subtly, but clearly, panicking Tain. “That’s kid’s screwed.”

Tain turned from Peragrine to Carson, then back and forth again. He couldn’t just let Peragrine run into town alone!

Could he? 

Did he have a right to stop him? Presumably, Peregrine was going to try and save the ghost-kid. What was the name? Cyndii. That was important and all… Noble, even. But...

What if it was a trap?  He didn’t want any of them to end up ghosts themselves, or worse, cursed any number of ways. Would Peragrine be able to handle himself?

Past evidence pointed more to yes than no… But it wasn’t a solid yes. Or a solid no.

Now Carson was sifting through Betsy’s saddlebags.  “Hey, you think I can take his horse? And how’s about these rations?”

Suddenly, Tain realized that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Peragrine died. Even if he and Carson wouldn't be able to do anything, he had to be there for the off-chance that he could make the difference. 

‘Besides,’ he thought, as he grabbed Cooper’s reins and saw his Wormholer strapped on Cooper’s side. ‘I’m much more ready for a fight now.' He tried not to remind himself that the enemies they were most likely to encounter would be ghosts, which his Wormholer would most definetly have no effect against.

“We’re going,” he said aloud as he swung up into the saddle.

Carson’s head shot up from out of the saddlebags. “WHAT?!”

“Ride Betsy.”

Carson hesitated for a brief moment as he weighed getting something of what he wanted with what he viewed as certain death, while Tain gathered up the rest of the camp and lashed it all to the Mule in record time.

Quickly, Carson realized that having a fast steed to run away from the danger was better than having a mule. He mounted up, and followed Tain as they cantered after an already distant Peragrine.

~~~~~

Peregrine ran past the silent buildings of Iron Crick. All gray, dilapidated, barely inhabitable. The wind was still, and smelled of dust. As if the air itself hadn’t moved, and had collected some. Peragrine’s footsteps and coat created a trail of disturbance through the town. 

As he neared the middle of the cluster of buildings, he realized he didn’t know where this supposed coal mine was.

He sighed. “Mrs. Sage would know.” 

A sudden sorrow welled up in him, and he wasn’t certain why. However, wiping it away with the tear that had sprung from his eyes, he took a deep breath and looked around. “Maybe there’s a surveyor’s office or something.”

He sauntered over to a promising building that might have been a formal-ish looking building, once upon a time. However, Tain and Carson quickly arrived.  Peragrine smiled. Of course his friends wouldn’t leave him alone. 

“Hey guys!” he replied cheerfully.

Tain frowned. “Be quick, Peragrine.” Behind him, Carson was all eyes, his head on a full swivel, snapping his neck around all angles, fear as plain on his face as it was in Betsy and the Mule’s.  Cooper shared Tain’s grim determination.

“Right, right.” Peragrine made an effort to focus. Then he turned back to Tain. “I have no clue where the Coal Mine is.”

Tain blinked once, before, Carson reacted how he was internally feeling. 

“OH MY WORD, WE ARE GOING TO DIE!!!” 

Betsy whinnied in agreement, her eyes rolling back as Carson fought to maintain control.

“I was thinking we could find a survey office, or maybe a manager’s office,” Peragrine explained.

Tain nodded, glad that Peragrine was still thinking instead of getting distracted by Carson. He nodded his agreement, and spurred Cooper forward, peering at the various buildings.

Peragrine took this to mean he agreed, and that they should split up. So he poked his head into the building that he’d originally picked out as potential.

It wasn’t. It was just a small general store. Stepping back out, he saw Carson atop Betsy and the mule next to them, all looking terrified. 

"Oh!" Peragrine looked around for Tain, but he was not to be seen. "Well, Carson, I guess you're with me."

Carson looked up from Betsy’s mane, unbridled terror on his face. "No. Nope. Not with you, Peragrine. I'm not with you, not with Tain, not with anyone. Not unless we're getting the heck outta this ghost town."

Betsy whinnied in apparent agreement, stamping and pawing, and growing more and more visibly nervous.

Upon seeing this, Peregrine clicked his tongue and held a hand out to the mare. 

Betsy nosed forward, and Peragrine placed his hand on her snout, instantly calming her. Carson watched as her shaking quickly lessened.

“Peragrine,” he whispered. “We need to leave.”

Peregrine sighed, as he stroked Betsy. “I know, Carson. You don’t like it. But I’m not leav-” 

“Like it?” hissed Carson. “I don’t just ‘not like it’; I freaking hate it.”  He leaned forward in the saddle. “I was possessed by a witch, Peragrine.” 

Carson leaned even more forward and pointed at Peragrine. “And it’s all. Your. Fault.”

“I know, Carson.” Peragrine replied, a tired tone sneaking into his words as the Mule came over and Peragrine stroked his nose with his other hand. “I get it, you-”

“NO! YOU DON’T! YOU DON’T GET IT!” Carson yelled. Both horses gave a start, but Peragrine somehow managed to shush them and keep them from panic.

Carson slid off of Betsy to the left and with a quick hand pulled something out of one of the mule’s saddlebags. Then he turned around to Peragrine, who had both hands on each of the mount’s noses, keeping them calm. 

Carson pointed the object at Peragrine accusingly. A set of Camp Utensils: Fork, Knife, Spoon, on a ring.  

“I had no control. None. I could barely even comprehend what was happening. That was an effort in and of itself. Someone else was deciding what to do with me. I was as good as dead.” Spittle flew from Carson’s lips as words began tumbling out. He moved forward and began jabbing Peragrine spitefully with the fork. Peragrine slowly began to back up the steps and onto the porch of the general store behind him, with Carson following.

“No. Control. You ever been out of control, Peragrine? Not been able to make any decisions of your own, having your own life decided for you? Having no say in your own body or goals? More than just having a supposed destiny or an already determined STUPID fate? People saying you’re the Chosen One, or that you’re the one with the most potential and you shouldn’t squander it?!? Huh, kid?! HUH?!? Or that you’re damned already, and whatever you do doesn’t matter?!” Here, Carson tossed the set of utensils up in front of a stunned Peragrine, snatched the knife out of the air, and backhanded Peragrine across the face with it.

Gasping in pain, and shock, Peragrine tumbled into some barrels, face turned away from Carson, and felt the wet, clean, knife cut from between his eyes to his right cheekbone.

Carson looked down at Peragrine, then at the knife in his hands, vibrant blood beaded on its edge. 

“Ah, what the heck. None of this matters." He looked back up at Peragrine. “Nothing I do matters anyway.” He wiped the knife clean with his shirt, noticing how colorful the blood was in stark contrast to everything else. “I’m not going to conv-”

Peragrine snapped his fingers. In response, the knife, along with the rest of the eating utensils flew to his hand.

“Yes, Carson. I know.”

Peragrine slowly stood up, his hands balled into fists as he turned around to face Carson.

“I know what it’s like to be out of control. Manipulated, Betrayed.” He wiped away blood trickling down his cheek like a tear, but his demeanor was far from tearful. A strange fire burned in Peragrine’s eyes, and suddenly Carson was forcefully reminded of the Power that the kid wielded. Power to snuff his little rebellion in an instant. 

Carson was rooted to the spot in fear of retribution, and Peragrine went on. 

“To have your actions decided for you, your fate sealed. The need to rebel against it. To ‘rage against the machine’ so to speak...” Here, a slight smirk snuck into the corner of Peragrine’s lip, before it dipped back down into the straightest line. “Even if it amounts to nothing, and your last shreds of entertained hope fade away, and make you want to just give up the ghost.”

Carson would have frowned at that final phrasing, but he was too terrified. Especially because Peragrine himself did not acknowledge it.

“But that’s the difference between me and you, Carson.”  

Peragrine tossed the set up into the air…

Carson screwed his eyes shut, bracing for the retribution…

…

“I never. Give up.”

'He's waiting for me to open my eyes before he strikes!' Thought Carson.

"Carson. Dude."

'He sounds so normal!' He wondered. 'It has to be a trap! Maybe he wants to get me in the eyes…'

"Open your eyes, man."

'I knew it! He'll probably use the spoon. Just scoop them out.'

"Carson. Look at me."

"Whatever you're going to do, JUST DO IT!" Carson screamed, eyes screwed shut.

"Oh for the love of…"

Carson felt someone grab his right hand-

"Wait, you're not-"

And slap cold metal into it. Harmlessly.

Carson opened his eyes and looked at his hand. The handles of the silverware was in his hand, pressed there by Peragrine's hand, which lay on top.

"I never give up, Carson. I still want to trust you. I still hope we can be friends."

Carson looked at Peragrine. He was smiling his usual smile.

"You are as stupid and naïve as all f-"

"Shhh." Peragrine put a finger to Carson's lips, his smile widening even more than Carson thought humanly possible as a single flame erupted from the tip. "There are children about."

Many blasphemous profanities raged in Carson's brain. But he said none of them, realizing that they would all be like gas on an open flame if he let them out.

"Now, come with me, friend."

Carson followed.

He followed Peragrine to the next building. A Pottery Shop And the next one, a bingo hall. And the next one, a regular residence.

All were empty, but Peragrine couldn’t shake the feeling that he was trespassing. He hurried through each space, his natural curiosity oppressed. His smile was tight, strained. The drab atmosphere didn’t help. The stifling silence, the dusty air. The half-light that drained what little color remained in the town after decades of neglect. The sullen, jittery shadows of Carson and the mounts, following him from building to building…

~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Tain also searched inside the buildings, and had significantly more success than Peragrine.  Almost immediately, he identified a large building and rode towards it. As he drew closer, he recognized it as a chapel. The front doors and porch seemed quite nicely intact, and the large wooden sign that was split between both double doors read ‘Ye Olde Chapel of the Creator’.

With some slight trepidation, Tain dismounted his horse, and after testing the porch railing, tied Cooper’s reins to it. Then, he pushed one of the double doors open.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to find in here, but a small town like this was sure to have some information in a public gathering place like this.

As he opened the door and looked into the Chapel, he realized that the whole left wall of the sanctuary had caved in, causing much of the ceiling to fall with it.

Stepping in, he followed the right wall all the way to the front of the pews, and after a brief glimpse at the empty pew, he turned into an anteroom in the right wall. 

Here, the wall on one side was all books. And on the other side, a desk. Ahead, another door with an iron grate that lead to outside.

Tain came around the desk, and saw a small bench that had the impression of someone’s rear end worn into it. Tain pushed it away and stood at the desk.

The wooden desk, like everything else, was very old and dusty, with clear markings of wear. Even before this town had been abandoned, it was clear this desk had sat for decades even before that. 

Avoiding the worn-down handles and impressions, Tain opened the desks drawers with his armored gauntlets. All he found were scraps of notes and sermons that meant nothing to him, and a worn wooden block with the name “Elder Shraub” engraved on it.

Moving towards the books, he found that most of them were now ruined beyond reading. Little more than masses of rotting paper tastefully stuck to the bookshelf, back wall, and each other. Reading what bindings he could, he made sure there was nothing that could help him with the more mundane matters of this life, and his current situation, before making a brief effort of historical preservation by placing the precious half-dozen or so mostly intact volumes into the drawers of the desk, where they would be kept a bit more safe from the elements.  Maybe someday he could come back and collect them. They were surely worth thousands to the right people.

Whatever else was in the rest of the Chapel was buried under rubble, and not worth his time. He pushed open the door leading to outside, and found it slightly heavier than he’d anticipated. Looking down at the intricately wrought-iron knob, he assured himself it wasn’t locked or dead bolted. Once assured, he braced himself, and shoved the door open.

The sound of wood on wood screeched from the other side, and the door gave way as a small bench similar to the bench behind the desk tumbled down two steps and off a small porch…

...Right into the local graveyard.

The stool knocked up next to a tombstone with a bell next to it, giving it a jostle that made the bell ring disjointedly. A moment later, the tombstone fell over with a ‘whump’.

Tain moved to the edge of the porch, and warily observed the 4 rows of 3 tombstones. One of which had just been knocked over. Each and every tombstone’s inscription had been worn beyond recognition, and next to each one was a little bell. Half-recalled stories of living dead attempted to bring Tain to a panic, but unsuccessfully. 

‘After all, it would be near impossible to climb out of a grave more than 5 or 6 feet deep. Even if you’re already dead and don’t need air.’  Tain smiled slightly with well-reasoned relief. 

Then all the little bells began ringing.

A discordant din of rusty, dented, tinny bells filled the air, and it took all of his self-control to stay rooted to the spot as every fiber of his being screamed with the basic instinct to flee.

Through sheer force of logic and reason, he stared down the frantic bells, and slowly, his heart-rate steadied as his nerves grew accustomed to the sudden noise. Just as he did, the bells fell silent.

Readjusting his grip on his wormholer, he stared down the undisturbed soil, daring monsters to rise and meet his chainsaw.

None did.

Then, the bell next to the fallen tombstone, the one in the bottom left of the grid, rang once. Followed by a second one diagonal from it, moving like a bishop across a chessboard. Back and forth. The sound travelled across the grid, and back.  Tain watched it with a severe frown.

The bells grew silent for a moment. Then all the bells rang in a wave from right to left, and a new pattern began. One bell at a time rang, going around in a circle around the edge of the grid.

Mentally, Tain cut up the bells into co-ordinates. Rows A, B, C. Columns 1 through 4.

He watched, looking for some sort of identifiable pattern. 

‘Clearly, whatever is causing this is intelligent.’ Tain thought, purposefully ignoring, for the moment, what exactly it could be. ‘And more than likely, it’s trying to tell me something. That, or it’s distracting me. Perhaps luring me in.’ Tain shook his head, as the bells made another wave and a new pattern began. ‘Well, I won’t be lured in, so it would seem I’m safe to watch from up here.’

He watched a few more patterns silently, but with no reference, it was little more than an interesting musical performance.

‘Guess this proves you can always use more Cowbell,’ Tain thought.  ‘But beyond that, I don’t know what else this proves.'

A grunt of confusion escaped him, and he turned to leave.

'What I need is Peregrine. He would be able to talk to whatever this is directly.'

As Tain stepped away to go back into the chapel, the bells, all the bells, rang at once. Insistent. Panicked. Tain stopped. Looking back, the bells quieted. 

Experimentally, Tain tapped the porch with his foot.

In response, one bell rang.

He tapped the porch twice.

And two bells rang.

Stepping twice towards the front of the porch, two bells rang in mimicry of his step forward.. 

He stepped back once and multiple bells rang in a panic. 

Tain paused as he digested this information.

And then the bells started playing a tune.

ding ding. Ding Ding. 

Ding ding, Ding.

Still thinking, Tain repeated the pattern.

tap tap. 

Tap Tap. 

Tap tap, tap.

The Bells laid out a second part.

ding ding.

ding ding.

Ding ding, dong.

Finally, Tain recognized the tune… and played the rest of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Quickly the bells joined him, and they finished the tune.

Tain couldn't ignore the facts anymore.

“You're Cyndii, aren't you?”

Ding-a-ling-ling-ling-ling-ling! One bell rang.

Tame nodded. If this was Cyndii the ghost child, she could somehow control the bells, hear or sense his movements, and also listen to what he was saying.

“Can you see me?” he asked.

Two different Bells rang once. Ding. Dong.

‘Is that a ‘no?’ Tain thought.

“But you can hear me,” he said.

1 bell ring. Ding. Yes.

“Will you hurt me?”

There was a short silence. Then two bells rang once. Ding, Dong. Short and terse. No.

Tain thought about this. He didn't trust any ghosts to keep its word on word alone. But what did this ghost child care about that he could trust her?

“Do you remember your mother?”

There was another pause and then one bell rang once. Ding. Yes.

“Do you swear on the memory of your mother that you will not harm me or the two other people who have come with me to help you?”

The response was Swift: One very loud, solid, yes. Ding!

Tain made his decision. Perhaps it was a bad one, but it was going to be the simplest, fastest, and most direct way to finish this and get on with his primary mission. Finding, and saving, Moira.

He stepped down off of the porch and stalked over to the center of the graveyard, planting himself between bells B2 and B3. Then he turned North and said in a loud voice, “I am facing north, which way are you?”

The bell's to his left rang. C2 and C3.

Tain looked back at the chapel, where the bells directed. Then he strode over to Bell A2

Ringing the bell once he said, “This is the chapel. Where are you?”

C2 rang. Tain nodded. 

“That’s where the Coal Mine is?”

Bell C2 rang once.

So the Coal mine was west of town.

“We’re on our way. One of my friends is an apprentice wizard. He will be able to talk to you directly. He’s also very powerful, so don’t double cross us.”

The bell rang once. Ding! Then twice. Ding, Dong. It seemed like a confirmation of friendliness. At least, that’s what Tain wanted to believe. But his caution couldn’t be dismissed entirely.

“I must find my friends, then we will find you.” Tain paused. “Is there a sign you can give us at the mine?”

There was a pause. Then, two short bell rings. Ding-dong. No.

“If we can’t find you, I will bring my Wizard friend back here.”

One ring. Ding. ‘Yes’. Or perhaps more of an ‘ok’.

Tain turned south, exited the small fenced graveyard, and followed the outside of the chapel to the front. 

There was Cooper, looking as dour and mildly nervous as Tain felt.

Untying and mounting Cooper, Tain set off to find Peragrine and Carson as the sun dipped low in the sky.

~~~~

Chapter 8: A Most Vile Coal Mine

Tain found Betsy and the Mule tied up in front of a largely crumbled and dilapidated Town hall. In fact, the only thing that denoted this was the Town Hall was a wooden sign on the ground that still read ‘Of Iron Crick’. The ‘Town Hall’ part of the sign has rotted away in the damp ground.

Tying Cooper up with Betsy and the Mule, who both seemed relieved by the stallions presence, Tain circled around the left of the collapsed front of the building, noting the footprints in the very boggy earth.

Turning the corner, he soon saw why.

The Town Hall of Iron Crick was built right next to the town’s namesake, now little more than a trickle.

Though that could have had something to do with the back half of the Town Hall having collapsed into it.

To Tain’s right, Peragrine and Carson were rooting through the rubble. Both of them had bits and scraps of paper and other items in their arms.

Tain strode over, being sure to squelch and kick with his feet so as to not take them by surprise.

Carson’s head snapped around first, eyes wide for a split second before they relaxed to his half-opened eyes that exuded disinterest. “Oh, it’s you.”

Peragrine looked back casually a moment later. "Oh, hey, Tain! Any luck?"

"The mine is west," Tain said, eying the small bits and scraps that Carson and Peragrine had in their arms. "Anything useful?"

Carson unceremoniously dumped his load as his feet. "Nope. Nothing here but a bunch of crrrr…"

Behind him, Peragrine half-turned and stared at Carson's back.

"Crud." Carson finished, staring blankly at Tain. "This whole area is nothing but crud. Lots of crud. Junk. Flotsam. STUFF."

Peragrine ambled over with his arms full of paper bits, wooden pieces, and soggy unidentifiable things.

"I found a few things of interest, but nothing on the mine’s whereabouts. You say it's west?"

Tain nodded and turned to lead the way.

“Lead the way, Tain!” Peragrine said, as he sorted various items into his jacket pockets.

Tain did so. They went back to the mounts, got on their respective rides, and followed Tain through town.  

Looking back at the Chapel steeple a few times, Tain moved west, and as they reached the edge of town, a path led to what was perhaps once a work yard, but now was little more than a junk one.  Carts, pickaxes, crates, shovels, other various mining implements, and piles and piles of rock and dirt lay about, neglected and in pieces due to the ravages of time.

The smell of dirt, dust, flies, and… rot, filled the air as they dismounted and let the horses and mule behind them.

At the far end, the ground dipped, presumably into the mine.

Carson wrinkled his nose. Tain’s perpetual frown deepened. Peragrine spoke.

“Yeish! what’s that sm-”

“Death.”

They reached the far edge of the yard, and looked down into the gravelly descent.

“Oh.”

The buzz of flies reached their ears as they looked down upon the remains of a number of bodies. The exact number was unknown as some were only bones, but despite themselves, they knew it was more than three. Peragrine counted 3 or 4 different heads and skulls. Carson saw more limbs than he was comfortable with. Tain didn’t avert his gaze, however, and counted exactly 5 different bodies with all their limbs at the base of what was clearly a massive digsite where the top of the mine had been. A number of rotting ladders, ropes and some metal and wooden slats and scaffolding made a haphazard path down into the pit.

Peragrine shuddered, his eyes closed.

Instantly, Tain whipped around. “Ghost?”

“What?” Peragrine asked.

“You shivered,” Tain said, alarm in his voice, but not his features as he smoothly looked around and pointed his Wormholer around.

“Oh. No.” Peragrine looked up at the setting sun. “Just… Cold…” He sighed, then pointed at the path leading into the pit. “Come on, let’s get this girl out of here.”

Tain put a hand on Peragrine, even as Carson spoke up.

“Mmmm, Nope! I’m not going down into that pit. I’ll stay here and hold the horses down.”

Tain nodded, then turned and fished out some rope from the pack mule. Reflexively, Carson stepped back, holding the reins of the mounts, but his concern was invalid, as Tain tossed an end to Peragrine.

“Oh, to pull me up, just in case?” Peragrine asked.

Tain nodded.

“Good thinking, Tain.”

Once again, Tain nodded.

Peragrine snapped his fingers and the rope looped around his waist like a snake, tying itself up, nice and snug. With this secure, Peragrine scampered down into the pit, barely avoiding an all-out tumble into its depths.

As Peragrine descended into the pit, the last rays of sun winked out from behind the western hills, bringing the temperature down noticeably.

Carson gulped audibly. “Ohhh Lord…” He looked at Tain. “This is where we all black out and die.”

Tain fed the rope through his hands as he kept his gaze focused on the back of Peragrine. He knew that if he looked up at Carson, the ex-prisoner caretaker would see his same fears mirrored.

Peragrine skidded down the rest of the way to the bottom. The stench was awful, making him gag involuntarily.

‘Yup. Five dead cadavers.’ Peragrine thought, looking at 3 skeletons, and two… mostly rotted bodies. Many of them had mutilated hands and arms.

He looked around.

‘These folks need to be buried. Respect the dead, Perry.’  Peragrine thought to himself. ‘Otherwise, beyond just the general disrespect, we could have more ghosts here.’

There were a number of digging implements here, wooden handles quite bloody.

Peragrine shook his head. He’d just use his magi-

A chill sensation splashed on him from above, and he saw Carson flash with white energy.

“Aw, NO!” Peragrine yelled. Then he leapt up.

Tain looked from Peragrine to Carson.

Carson was sagging, his eyes closed, his hands gripping the three horse reins, as all three equines snorted nervously.

As Peragrine practically flew up to the lip of the pit, landing between Carson and Tain, Carson snapped to attention.

His eyes were entirely black.

“Whatever you are, GET OUT OF MY FRIEND,” Peragrine yelled forcefully. Then he swung his right hand to slap the ghost out of him.

“Wait!” Said Carson, flinching... But it was the voice of a young girl.

Peragrine halted his attack, inches from Carson’s cheek.

Tain peeked out from behind Perry.

Carson perked up when he saw Tain. “It’s you!" he squeaked, sounding like an excited school girl. "I rang the bells to talk to you.”

Peragrine raised an eyebrow, and turned his head to look at Tain at his shoulder.  “Tain? Bells?”

Tain nodded. “This is the girl. Cyndii.”

Peragrine glanced back at Carson/Cyndii. “Cyndii?”

Carson/Cyndii nodded. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m sorry to scare you, but I can only possess people at night.” She motioned to Tain. “I thought this would be easier than… anything else.”

Peragrine relaxed slightly. “Oh. Well…” He scratched his head. “Um. Carson, the guy you’re possessing, he’s got a severe aversion to ghosts. Do you mind, um…”

“Possessing someone else?” Cyndii asked, noting Peragrine’s sheepishness.

“Yeah.”

“Are you volunteering?”

“Sur-” began Peragrine.

“No.”

Both Peragrine and Carson/Cyndii turned to Tain.

“No?” Peragrine asked.

“Cyndii is fine where she is.” Tain said. He turned to Peragrine’s feet. “Let’s just get this over with. Where are you buried, Cyndii?”

Cyndii pointed at the base of the pit. “Right down there.”

“Directly above where you are?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Peragrine?”

Peragrine paused, glancing between Carson/Cyndii and Tain.  “Um, ok.” He stared at the black voids that represented Carson/Cyndii's eyes. “Just hold on, Carson. I’ll get this done fast, and then… Then we’ll talk.”

Peragrine turned to the pit, hopped over the edge, landed halfway down, and skidded the rest of the way.

Landing in the bottom, he punched the right slope, and a small hole was made, quickly filling up again with gravel and silt from above.

Punching once again with his magic with one hand, he reached out with his other, and magically pulled a corpse into the hole.

Or he tried to. Instead, Peragrine was hit from behind by a rush of all 5 of the human remains flying into the hole. Backing up in time, the gravel, sand, and silt didn’t bury him, but it did the job for the remains.

Peragrine winced, rubbing his head where a femur or something had given him a bonk. It was… improper. Butch. Rushed.

‘But it was better than how I found it…?’ Peragrine thought. ‘Besides, I need to do this fast. For Carson.’

He now turned to the clear, well mostly clear, area.

Peragrine closed his eyes. He wanted to dig straight down in front of him.

Reaching out, Peragrine spun his hands around in a circle, with his fingers draped down towards the ground. Then he gripped the edges of the bucket he’d mentally made, and yanked it up.

Tain and Carson/Cyndii watched as the center of the pit erupted dirt and gravel and muck like an earthen geyser. Tain ducked as a shovel whirled past his head, and dirt rained down. Carson/Cyndii stared in amazement, dirt falling into their open mouth.

Then the fetid stench hit them.

Peragrine opened his eyes, and found himself retching on all fours as a swarm of flies, bugs, and grubs burst over him from the hole he’d made.

“Gaaah!” screamed Peragrine. The assault on his senses was too much:

A moment later, Peragrine felt himself being hauled up by the rope.

The sounds of Tain’s wormholer ripping through thousands of bugs and grubs. The feeling of unknown numbers of creatures on him. The continual stink and stench that tore through his senses with its strength, leaking into his sense of taste and making him gag even more.

“I’ve got you, wizard!” Came the voice of a young girl, as Peragrine felt Carson’s surprisingly strong arms holding him.  The bugs peeled away from Peragrine’s face, and the unnerving black eyes of Carson/Cyndii stared at him, smiling.

“Stand up, I’ve got to control these bugs,” they said.

Peragrine found his feet, and no sooner did he do so that Carson crumpled to the floor. Peragrine saw a strange dim light, misty and insubstantial flash between Carson and the bugs.

Peragrine knelt down and checked Carson’s pulse. It was fast, and fine. He breathed a sigh of relief, then looked around for Tain.

Tain was busy shooting bugs. But the bugs were leaving them alone now. Bunching up...Forming…

Forming a humanoid form.

Peragrine looked around for the horses. They were long gone, even Cooper.

“That’s fair,” Peragrine muttered. He looked at Tain, who couldn’t hide the terror he felt. Nor the determination.

They both looked at the human-shaped bug mass that was now alighting on the edge of the pit.

“I’m free,” it said. Its voice was no longer the voice of a little girl. Instead, it took on the quality of a mouth and body made of bugs. A squirming, wavering, moist, buzzing form of voice.

Tain leveled his Wormholer at the being. Peragrine raised his hands in a placating manner.

“Cyndii?”

The bug-being didn’t have a face to speak of, but it turned it’s roughly shaped head towards Peragrine. “Yeszz. It iszz I. I ang freee.”

“That’s great! … Why are you not a ghost then?”

“A... Ghoszzt?”

“Yeah. Why can’t I see your ghostly form, like I did your-” Peragrine stopped himself. “Uhhh.”

“Thiszzzz iszz how I’vvvve alwayszz beeng,” Bug-Cyndii said. “I nnnngevvverr learrrnnnged annnny othhhher ffvvvvormmm othhhher than thhhe kind thhhhat hopszz from host to host.”

Tain glanced at Peragrine. Then back at Cyndii. “What will you do with your freedom, Cyndii?”

Cyndii looked at Tain. Then at her hands, which were little more than the ends of arm-like appendages.

“Where iszz my mothhhher?” she asked.

A lump formed in Peragrine’s throat, and he found he couldn’t speak. He closed his eyes, and his arms lowered as his sorrow and confusion threatened to choke him.

Tain noticed, and realized it would be up to him to explain.

“She’s not here.” Tain said. Quickly, he thought of how best to explain something that he didn’t fully understand to a dead girl. The secondary thought of how the Crux did he end up here also flashed through his mind, but he didn’t get an answer for that.

“She’s moved on.” Tain said. “She sent us to get you, and send you on as well.”

Peragrine looked up at Tain, surprised, but impressed. It wasn't entirely a lie....

Cyndii looked up at the sky.  “Moved on? Like, Depart?”

Tain shrugged. Peragrine nodded.

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Peragrine said.

Cyndii looked back at where the sun had hidden itself.  Then down into the pit.

“I don’t think I want to.”  She pointed into the pit and directed her attention to Peragrine. “Wizard. Can you grab the bones down there? There will be mine, but also two other sets.”

Tain frowned. “Will it be harmful?”

“No. I control the bugs. Only the stench will affect you.”

Peragrine creeped carefully to the edge of the pit. It was dark in the part that he’d dug further. He couldn’t see the bottom, but the warm, fetid smell still hit him, and he could see the warm air in the cold of the night.

“How far down is it?”

“3 or 4 fathoms. Maybe 5, I guess. I dunno. Please?”

“From where I began digging or from-” asked Peragrine, incredulous.

“No, from here.”

Peragrine leaned back to look at Tain. “How far is a fathom?”

Tain replied. “6 Feet.”

Peragrine did some mental math. “So, maybe 30 feet.” Peragrine grabbed the rope still around his middle. “Is this enough?”

Tain nodded.

“Alright then, I’ll be right back!” Then he dove off the edge, slid down the gravel slope, and slipped down the chimney he’d dug. It was small enough for him to control his descent by sticking his limbs out to both walls, but he mostly slid the entire way down, trying not to breathe the awful fumes.

Partway down, he realized he would need a light once he landed.

Suddenly, the walls disappeared from his feet, and so he jammed his arms tightly and held still. Feeling for the ground, he was surprised to find it without too much stretching. Letting go of the bottom of his earthen chimney, his foot sank into something soft.

‘Best not to think too much about it.’

With a flare of his fingers, a ball of fire appeared in his hands.

And ignited the fumes that had built up for nearly a century.

~~~~~

Tain watched Peragrine slide down the hole, into the darkness. He turned to the bug manifestation of Cyndii, who also stared at where Peragrine had disappeared.

“I don’t want to Depart,” Cyndii said.  “At least, not without my mother.” She turned to Tain. “I hoped she’d be here.”

Tain didn’t know what to say, so he focused on the still crumpled form of Carson. He walked over and checked his pulse, keeping a hand on his Wormholer.  Carson was alive, but he was very chill to the touch. Tain tugged Carson away from the edge of the pit, over to a dirt pile, and propped him up into a more comfortable position that wouldn’t give him cramps when he woke up.

“...Would you wait with me till dawn, sir?”

Tain turned around, and found that he was staring directly at the legs of the buzzing manifestation. Cyndii has floated closer to him with his back turned.

Unable to look up into that blank wriggling face, he was trying to formulate a response when a muffled boom shook the ground beneath them.

Followed immediately by a thunderous roar of flame erupting from the pit.

Tain’s eyes grew wide.

‘Peragrine… PERAGRINE!!!’

His mouth was hanging open, he wanted to scream, call for help.

But what would that accomplish? What would that do?

Some autonomous part of his brain suddenly reached over and shut off the emotional centers of his brain, cutting off the mounting hysteria. He found his mouth closing casually. Glancing back at a waking Carson, he felt himself say, “Stay here,” among the fading roar of fire, and then noted that the bugs were all falling down at Carson’s feet, dead.

He slowly… smoothly… Casually, but carefully, approached the pit, and pulled up the charred end of a rope.

Glancing down into the pit, he realized.

Logically speaking, Peragrine was dead.

He’d blown himself up in a defunct coal mine that was the grave of three persons. Now four. The space where the three bodies had lain had probably filled with methane gas, trapped for years, among other flammables. The magic-loving young wizard had most likely conjured a flame to try and get a light.

Now the entire coal mine, the entire deposit of coal, however big it was, was on fire. He could see various deposits in the pit, glowing and burning. It was quickly becoming smokey.

This whole place would soon be covered in smoke. Probably for weeks, if not months to come.

Part of his barely functioning brain screamed with guilt. He should have reminded him of that. It should have been common sense for him, but he was just a kid. At least, mentally he seemed that way.

But that same part of his mind. That same highly emotional part of his mind that felt guilt… also felt hope.

Peragrine was a wizard. He didn’t follow logic. Not completely. Maybe he’d been able to shield himself at the last moment. Maybe his own flame didn’t harm him. Maybe, any moment now, Peragrine would leap out and say…

“I’m ALIVE! HOLY COW, I’M ALIVE! I’M ALIVE?!?”

Tain opened his eyes just in time to see Peragrine Wanderthistle leap out of the hole, surrounded by Green and Violet energy, whooping with joy, trailing smoke behind him. The wizard did a double backflip, and then landed dramatically next to Tain.

“Did you see that, Tain?! THAT WAS AWESOME!”

Tain frowned, and tried to wipe the tears that he found obscuring his vision away before Peragrine saw. “The bones?” he asked curtly.

“Bones? Oh, they’re evaporated.”

“You burned them?”

“Bit of an accident, but cremation is another form of burial, right?”

Tain looked around. The bug manifestation of Cyndii was nowhere to be found. The only evidence that she’d been there at all was a large pile of dead insects at Carson’s feet. As for Carson himself, he was looking at them in confusion. With normal eyes. Tain would have breathed a sigh of relief, but his emotion was still entirely shut down for maintenace or something.

The ground rumbled beneath them, and a few yards away a thin fissure opened in the earth as smoke erupted.

“We need to leave.”

Peragrine looked around, and his exuberance left him.  “Oh. Oh Lord, what have I done?”

Carson had finally found his footing as he walked up to the other two. “I just woke up. Did Peragrine just set a coal mine on fire?”

Tain nodded as the earth rumbled in confirmation.

Carson glanced back and forth, disbelief in his eyes. “You cannot be f-”

Peragrine waved at hand at the other two, similar disbelief mounting in his eyes, along with panic. “W-w-wait! Where’s Cyndii? Cyndii?!? Cyndii???”

Tain brushed past both of them and began walking back towards the center of town, as the two mounted into pointless hystarics. He had to find the horses. Find them NOW, before they were scattered even farther from the smoke, fire, and rumblings. Then he'd come back for his... associates.

He whistled. He wasn’t sure if any of the horses responded to that, but it was worth a shot.

~~~~~~

Chapter 9: Living with Perpetual Consequences

To Be Continued... Shortly™