II-26 Bedfellows

Few things hurt more than when your own side is determined to get you killed.

Every soldier has some kind of story related to this. Something about how their commanders or supposed comrades did some bullshit that got people killed for no reason. But the worst thing is when you're fighting with nobles. Thing about nobles—they hate each other. Another thing about nobles—if you aren’t powerful or don’t got the right family name, they don’t care if you die.

So. That usually ends with a lot of pointless death.

Have a story about trying to smash through this fort under a City Lord Stutton. Real asshole. Loved to flog people. And he also loved trying to beat his rival, City Lord Hermando during the Gate Rush of ‘72. 

So there we were, getting butchered by noble ambitions trying to take a gate that didn’t matter. Outside of the gate was some group of primal elves, but damn were those bastards good mages. We bombed them for seven days and nights. Nothing. And then we heard Hermando was coming in, and Stutton went from being just your usual piece of shit to an insane and murderous piece of shit.

We went from hammer and squeeze to doing frontal assaults.

This ended the way you expect it to. A lot of dying. Even with artillery and magical cover. It got so bad that City Lord Stutton decided he was not going to wait anymore. That he, as a High Master in Physicality and Axe Proficiency was being let down by the pathetic wretches he was leading, and so he and his personal retinue went out for a charge. To his credit, the bastard was strong. He literally tore a massive gap into the fort and the nearby land—caused a pretty nasty quake in the process.

 I’ll tell you this much. Masters, they hit hard. They’re on a different level. A natural disaster more than a man. 

But that fortress was made to endure worse disasters than him. He broke through the exterior wall, and with a roar, he demanded that we all charge. And… we didn’t.

Because fuck him. 20% casualties. For what? For some gate we won’t get anything from? Fuck him twice, and if you’re Stuttons family, get tainted for being related to the piece of shit.

We didn’t follow. And the elves sealed the gate behind them. The fighting kept up for a while because he was still a Master, but after about two days, they gave Stutton’s body back to us and told us to leave. That should have been the end of things, but then Hermando decided he wanted the gate and that we were getting recruited for his idiot charge too. 

Hermando died mysteriously that night. Elves snuck into our camp and made a blood mess of him. No one saw anything.

Another thing about nobles. Sometimes, they just turn up dead. A real mystery of life.

-Memoirs of a Master-Tier War Mage

II-26
Bedfellows

Shiv initially imagined the Elaboration to be something like Cradle—a massive structure that was shaped like its namesake. Frankly, it wasn’t even like the Passage, which was more an enormous dome-shaped building lined with cavernous exits filled by many, many teleportation anchors. No, Elaboration was nondescript; so nondescript that it was impossible to determine where Elaboration even began and the rest of the city ended.

When a Weaveress Jump Mage came to retrieve Shiv and the others, they found themselves dropped on a bridge. It was not even a particularly remote bridge. It was high up in the city, a busy intersection where demons and people passed by all the time. They were then led into what seemed like an office building—and to Shiv’s surprise, it was just an office building. Workers flicked mana across papers, inscribing details, stamping contracts. There were desks. There were offices. But no Jealousy. No secret facilities. No Sisters or Trapdoor Weaveressses.

Shiv wondered what this place had to with the hyper-mysterious Elaboration where all the Greater Demons and secrets of Weave were stored, but then they passed through another unassuming door, and the entire atmosphere changed. Suddenly, they were in an extremely reinforced tunnel, its walls lined with protective enchantments and scannign spells like the interior of a teleportation anchor. 

Now, this was a place meant to contain powerful things.

After they got to the end, descended in an elevator, and emerged, they were in another environment altogether. The elaboration was connected, the general architecture of the public, hidden in plain sight, with no obvious targets for enemies to strike or infiltrate. Shiv wondered if this was to defend against the spies of New Albion, but considering how deeply the agents of Aviary managed to infiltrate Passage… He had doubts about how cost-effective this was.

At least a good portion of Aviary’s assassins and spies are dead, Shiv thought.

The inner levels of Elaboration were a hive of activity. Shiv saw Weaveresses containing strange artifacts that pulsed with magical energy, strange and esoteric creatures held within stasis cages, suppressed by spells that rendered them dormant in physical activity and mental activity. There was even a cage that was supposedly a temporal seal, which reminded Shiv how the Vicar managed to freeze time itself within vast space when Shiv was falling from Blackedge.

From the central lobby were hallways and walkways extending in all directions, with signs that were scripted in codified language. Even with his enchanted reading glasses, Shiv still didn’t understand where anything was. He didn’t understand what a Kinetic Spatial Anomaly Storage Facility was, nor did he know what a Psycho-Semantic-Philosophy-Memetic-Counteractor did. 

He stuck close to the Weaveress leading him because if he got lost here, he might stay lost for good.

Finally, they were taken to an observation room. They found themselves placed in a plain, sleet-white room with a window in front of it. The window was protected by layered magics and overlooking what seemed to be an huge oubliette that sank into the ground. It descended deep down before them like a tube. And there, at the bottom of that massive sunken barrel, Uva hovered in the air, midair, surrounded on all sides by even more mystical protections.

The Jealousy was partially manifested, and the dense emanation of mana made it look like it was hatching from Uva’s mind. Its existence, composed of psionic energy, crackling with shrouds of intermittent darkness. Shiv could tell it was still mind-dead. But the way it stared, the way it stretched its limbs out, and traced the edges of the world, made him feel uneasy. And by this point, he couldn’t tell where the Greater Demon’s mana began, and Uva mana ended. 

She really deep inside that thing’s mind, Shiv stared.

The Weaveress that brought them in pressed a button right underneath the observation window. “Cherished Sister Uva, the authorized personnel have arrived. You may begin the demonstration.” Her voice echoed out into the room beyond, and Shiv caught sight of other windows lined with focus crystals—and other Psychomancers pooling their power to stabilize the Jealousy.

Didn’t even notice them before.

“Acknowledged,” Uva said, her mind echoing. However, it was cast out into the room as an audible declaration rather than a psionic one.

Shiv looked around in confusion as to why and the Weaveress explained, “The spellwork converts all psionic communications into audible ones. It makes things clear and helps avoid any attempts at compromising one’s ego.”

“I see,” Valor said. “It is impressive what you have made. Despite the recency of your state, the Necrotechs have several operations like these. But their resources mean they have no excuse. You do yourselves honor.”

“Necessity breeds discipline and creativity.” The Weaveress replied, “You honor us with your compliment, Great Legend.”

Adam, though, was practically glaring down from the window. His arms clutched behind his back, his face a look of pure intensity. Shiv stood right next to him, while the others lingered behind, unsure about what they just found themselves in the middle of.

The Weaveress gestured for them to hold the button.“You can speak to her. They can hear you through here. It is a place that also allows our voices to be carried out with perfect clarity.”

Adam nodded. “Uva. Show me what you have learned.”

She didn’t cast the memories directly into their minds—the wards prevented that—but she did create what seemed to be a small cloud of dense, psionic mana, mana that clashed and twisted and congealed like a roiling, boiling wave. Then it cleared. It materialized just above the Jealousy, and in that patch of clarity, a scene began to play—a memory from the perspective of the Jealousy, as the Weaveress elaborated. 

The memory showed a man standing beyond a ritual circle. A complex series of magical circles lined the ground right in front of his feet. Shiv wondered if the wards were made to prevent the Jealousy from escaping or to summon the Greater Demon instead.

The man was dressed in a finely made black and yellow long coat. Shiv guessed the garment was expensive, based on how shiny and over stylized it was. Nobility had weird and extreme tastes. On his chest, there was a symbol, an emblem of a shield splitting what seemed to be a lightning bolt in half.

Stormhalt, Shiv thought. I guess they take their family name really literally.

Man himself looked similarly imposing. He cut a tall figure, long of limb and gaunt of build. Shiv guessed the man was likely much taller than he was, but not nearly as big. There was, however, a crackle of lightning that danced around the man—a hint of the noble’s Skill Evolution. Static danced at the end of the nobleman’s well-trimmed beard as well. Stormhalt’s eyes were intense, the color of a storm brewing, dark with flashes of white. He seemed to regard the Jealousy not as someone would a Greater Demon, but as a Pathbearer facing a rival. 

His arms were behind his back, but his posture was stiff. This wasn’t an interrogation or a clash, but a negotiation.

“Well, that is Havel Stormholt,” Adam declared. His expression turned absolutely sour. “I never did like the man. He did never like me, either. But… He was always cordial. He was… I know him and my father had their grievances, but to do this… Isabella’s father… The Inquisition…” Adam looked lost. Shiv wasn’t sure what to tell the Young Lord. He wasn’t even sure what to make of the scene yet.

“I thank you for responding to my communications so thusly,” Havel said. His voice was strong, even resonant. Everything about him spoke of a storm brewing. Of something about to snap and break at any moment. “I understand that you are considering… Gate Lord Confriga’s offer. I thank you for bringing this to my attention. As promised, I will see you nourished with a thousand minds. They will be delivered to your usual place of feeding.”

“A thousand mind?” Adam croaked. “A thousand people? Where is the Republic supposed to get that? How? From where? Usual place of feeding? This—this isn’t the first time?” The Young Lord was absolutely aghast. Behind, the Slayers looked on in disbelief as well. “The Ascendants—they should have struck him down for this? Destroyed his very soul for this sacrilege.”

Shiv placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. Adam almost flinched away, but he stopped himself.

“You should be pissed,” Shiv said. “But be pissed all at one at the end. I think it’s only going to get worse.”

“More than this, however,” Havel continued with a dark expression clouding his face. “I have another need for you. I have another service you can render. I will see you rewarded, ten times over. Fed for ten years. And fed for ten more years after that. If you can accomplish what is needed.”

The Jealousy laughed, and the very noise made Shiv feel sick. “Speak. Speak, human. Speak before hunger takes me. Mind so close, so enticing…”

Havel’s face twisted in near-disgust, but he controlled himself and hid the full expression. That didn’t matter because the Jealousy could sense his emotions, and it mocked him. “Be honest. Be open. Don’t need to like each other. Just need to deal…”

“I need you to help me steal something. I need you to make sure that the Animancy Core required by Vicar Sullain ends up in my hands first.” Havel glared.

“Why,” the Jealousy hissed. “Why betray ally? Why seek to take their greatest weapon? They need? They need core. Want them to lose?”

“We are not allies,” Stormhalt said, his face a mask of fury. “He is a monster. He is a butcher and a heathen. But he is also what is needed to deliver justice. An imperfect vessel in the hands of the Ascendants. However, an imperfect vessel cannot be trusted. And he has denied me too much now. I must be there at the point of triumph. He cannot be allowed to destroy Black Edge in its entirety. To kill Roland Arrow. I need a corpse, at least. And I need Starhawk’s Perch. It cannot be lost. I cannot afford it. And so, you will have me take the Vicar’s lifeline. So I might give it to them only when certain conditions are met.”

The Jealousy let out a rasp of seething laughter. “See. You blackmail your ally. See you trying to work a personal angle. This… this deal not known to Inquisition?”

“That is no concern of yours. Will you do it?” Havel’s eyes flashed with electricity. Thunder and stormstuff were leaking from him, escaping the confines of his body.

“Yes,” the Jealousy said. “But I can tell how desperate you are. I can tell that you risk much. I will risk much too. We are—” the Greater Demon considered its words, “—bedfellows in this. I want more than just ten years of mind-food.”

“Twenty,” Havel said without hesitation.

The Jealousy gasped—a human noise of surprise. Its gasp was shared by Adam. Even Shiv leaned in.

“Twenty thousand minds…” Valor breathed.

“Twenty. That is a lot of feed…” the Jealousy said.

Havel was unshaken“I will find the unwashed, unneeded, and sinful. I will deliver them. It is no great difficulty. And then I will make sure that you live decades in comfort. No more risks. No more threats to your life. Just casual, blissful feasting. While you focus on developing your skills.”

The Jealousy chuckled. “Agreed. Will do this. Will take the core for. And only you… Master-Pathbearer Havel.” And with the Jealousy’s consent, spells on the ground ignited. Such was how Shiv realized this wasn’t something to protect Havel from the Jealousy, but to sign an accord between them.

“A contract is signed. A contract is sealed. We are bound by this pact. And should one betray the other, I trade my skill for yours, and let us both be shattered in the transgression. Let us both be shattered in the transgression.” Havel looked like he wanted to break something as he spoke those words.

The Jealousy agreed. “Then, let us both taste in violent delights. Have one more request.”

Havel hesitated, looking uncertain. “And what is it?”

“You hate this Roland Arrow… maybe… maybe can give him to me too… want to feed on a Master. Will feed on him slow. Let you watch…”

Havel’s eyes widened. “That will delight me more than anything. Alas, I must see what I can do. I don’t know how much of him will be left after I’m done. Not of him. Not of his line. Not of his reputation.”

“Bastard!” Adam roared. He nearly slammed his fists into the window but Shiv caught him—held him back. “Bastard! Bastard!” Something inside the Young Lord had come undone, and rage was pouring out of him. Enough rage that his courage just then was unbreakable. Shiv could feel a fiery heat emanating off Adam Arrow with his Dread Aura, and knew the Young Lord was beyond fear.

Adam struggled against Shiv, tried to push him off, but the Young Lord was no master in terms of Physicality or Grappling. Shiv held both of them in place with his gravitic field, and let the Young Lord vent his rage on him. He shot an apologetic look at the Weaveress and the others as Adam punched him over and over. “Give us some distance.”

They acknowledged. The air cracked with every blow. Shiv moved back enough that Adam wouldn’t break his fists.

After a good minute, Adam finally vented his frustration entirely. When he was done, he couldn’t meet Shiv’s eyes. “You done?” Shiv asked.

“I… I apologize for my outburst,” Adam swallowed. “It’s unbecoming.”

“No, I mean if you’re still made, keep punching,” Shiv shrugged. “Don’t need you feeling bad for no reason.”

Uva spoke again then. “There is more to this—there are other memories that are not so direct communications, other things detailing the alliance between the Inquisition and this greater demon. I will have transcripts made for you both.”

“Thanks, Uva,” Shiv said. He paused momentarily and regarded her after checking if Adam was okay. “How are you doing?”

“Better than well,” Uva declared. “The Jealousy... Well, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever done before. The mind of the Greater Demon Psychomancer is beyond sophisticated. It might be one of the most powerful Psychomancers that we at Weave have ever seen. Legendary Psychomancers are few and far between. For a Heroic-Tier to be taken alive and in an ego-broken but memory intact state is… Well, the Composer might wish to speak to you tomorrow morning and compose a song in your honor.”

Shiv whistled. “Oh, that’ll be another interesting meeting. Hopefully the song isn’t about my spying career, though. Might not make for a good song.”

“Comedic tunes are popular,” Uva said coolly. Shiv grunted. “There’s also something else. Even with the Jealousy dead, its mind is reactive. It latches on to things. I think it’s a natural instinct left over. We might be able to use it or fashion it somehow. Perhaps it might be even able to heal many broken minds. The opportunities that this offers, they’re practically boundless for both healing and offensive action. We will likely be studying its capabilities for months. If not years.”

Shiv smiled about that. “Well, I’m glad I got my mind broken for something. Are you almost done for the day?”

“Yes, perhaps in a few hours.”

Shiv nodded. “I’ll wait.” He regarded Adam with a look of uncertiany. “Are you gonna be okay?”

The Young Lord was at the hatred state after the rage ran dry. “I’ll be alright once we deal with Havel Stormhalt. Once we tear into the Inquisition and discover what’s going on. All this scheming, plotting to murder my father. To murder the hero of the Republic. And cavorting with demons. It’s all just…” Adam drew in a long breath. “It’s all madness.”

“Yeah. And they’re going to pay for it,” Shiv said. “We even got proof. But…” He didn’t want to voice his suspicions about how helpful the Ascendants might be. He had a feeling things were even more complicated than he expected. “We’ll deal with it. Whatever it takes.”

Adam clenched his jaw and nodded. “Yes. I… Again, I should have hit—” Shiv clapped him on the shoulder and made Adam stumble. “What was that for, you bastard?”

“That,” Shiv said, with a grin, “was a hit. Whatever your baby arms did weren’t hits. They were like… tantrum-touches.”

“You—” Adam’s nostril flared. “I’m going to drive my fist through your head someday, Omenborn.”

Shiv laughed. “I look forward to it, Young Lord. But until then, if you need to work your Physicality or deal with some stress, swing away any time. I won’t notice.”

The Deathless and the Young Lord sneered at each other for a moment longer, before Shiv dropped the tease. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right?” Shiv asked.

“Don’t worry,” Adam said. “I will not do anything reckless. I think I will go flying and take in the sights of the city… Clear my mind. I will take the others. I need some room from you anyway. Before you remind me what other terrible skill you’ve gained in the last five seconds.”

Adam as grumbled, Shiv chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, you better. Before you decide you hate me more than you hate Havel.”

“It’s a near thing between you two,” Adam said, but Shiv could tell that was bullshit. Adam was a prickly asshole with a trigger-temper sometimes, but that guy was second to a pretty decent Pathbearer.

“Valor?” Shiv said. “You sticking around?”

“I think I will go with Adam for a while. Perhaps, as we venture, we might be able to chart out some other armor stores and smithies.”

“Yeah,” Shiv sighed. “There’s still that problem. Well, you guys get out of here first. I think I’m gonna wait on a lady.”

Adam was about to leave fore he paused. “Do not come back to the apartment. There is more than a little chance I’ll be there at some point tonight.”

“Don’t intend to,” Shiv replied. “Don’t intend to at all. I think Uva and I are going around flying.”

Adam snorted. “Flying, or being thrown by a gravitic field repeatedly? There’s a difference.”

Shiv looked down from the window at Uva. She had her arm on her hips. “That depends on how you throw someone, doesn’t it?”

The Young Lord’s expression turned uncertain. He looked out the window, staring worriedly at Uva, and then back to Shiv.

“Shiv, when you do this, uh, do take care not to… splatter her.”

Shiv frowned. “I’m not going to splatter my girlfriend, Adam.”

“Yes, but ‘you’re not going to’ means you don’t intend to. When we were racing earlier, you also didn’t intend to blast through three different buildings and nearly cut a demon in half. And, well, you certainly did intend to throw the goblin at me multiple times.”

“I hated that,” Siggy whimpered.

“Sister Uva is a remarkable Pathbearer,” Adam said, straightening himself. “She has a keen mind. She is focused. She has a cool mind and that is essential for our current… essemble. Especially when I am the way I am. And you are an idiot.”

Shiv rolled his eyes. “Thanks Adam. Also, this is the most awkward way I’ve ever seen someone describe someone else as their friend.”

“Yes, well, fine. Just don’t splatter my friend and your…. something else,” Adam finished.

“I won’t.” And now Adam had Shiv feeling a little worried. “I guess I’ll take it slow. I’ll keep it controlled.”

“Yes,” Adam nodded. “She has many skills. She is a woman of much expertise. But Toughness is not her strongest skill. She won’t admit that, but she really needs more Toughness. I don’t know if she’s even at Adept there.” Adam paused. “Of course, if she spends more time with you, that might change very shortly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shiv asked, glaring at Adam.

“What are you insinuating, Hero Adam?” Uva asked as well.

Adam froze. “Ah, Uva, you could hear me too?”

“Yeah,” Shiv said, angling his body and showing Adam that he was still holding the talk button for the oubliette. “It’s also important for our little group to have good communication. So. What do you mean, Adam?”

“Oh, you utter, utter bastard,” Adam sneered.

***

Adam and the others departed after that, unwilling to get between Shiv and Uva. However, before the Young Lord left, he advised Shiv to take it slow when turning corners and remember that he flew like a large, blind bomb, not a graceful hawk. There was some useful advice wrapped up in that condescension, but Shiv would probably have to learn on his own. Frankly, that was how he learned: by doing, failing, and retrying on his own.

It took approximately what felt like a small eternity for Uva to get done, but when she finally finished, he watched her unbind the jealousy from her mind and leave it within the oubliette. There the greater demon rested, its limbs splayed out, its eye unblinking, pointed at the ceiling. Uva was barely a speck beside it. However, even unlatched from the Jealousy, her Psychomancy field remained changed. It remained fainter than ever, subtle, barely perceptible.

Shiv wondered if this was natural, if this was what was about to happen before a Skill Evolution. I wonder what her Psychomancy might become, Shiv looked. She’s probably on the verge of becoming a master. He considered that. Well, considering what she’s been doing with the jealousy, maybe she might be able to jump to hero altogether.

Shiv considered how good he, Adam, and Uva would perform in a fight now. Hope so. That would cover practically all our most pressing weaknesses as a team. We might even be able to take Harkness on. Hells. I’m looking forward to seeing the owl again.

Uva ran her hand through her hair and gave an exhausted groan once she was finally released. “The Jealousy is a true trove of power and memory, but it takes a lot of energy to delve. Most of Psychotechs are exhausted.” She frowned. “I expected more from them. With a bit of focus and drive, we could be so much further.”

“Well,” Shiv said. “I don’t think everyone has what you have.”

She paused. “Perhaps. I have been accused of being consumed by my work.”

“There’s nothing wrong with dedication,” Shiv shrugged. “It’s just not for everyone. Some just wanna take life easy.”

“And you?” Uva asked.

“I’m a pretty simple guy,” Shiv replied casually. “I just want to break big monsters over my knee and cook over its corpse afterward. Maybe cook from its corpse. Now. About getting a supply of meat from the Jealousy…”

“I told the other Psychomancers about your request,” Uva said, with a twinkle in her eye. “They all thought I was jesting. You’ll have to assert this yourself, or they’ll just keep accusing me of telling bad jokes.”

“I’ll bring it up with the Composer during her song, I guess,” Shiv muttered.

They’d left through a series of interconnected stores. All of them seemed to be cafes of some kind.

“It’s pretty weird how your elaboration is hidden among the public infrastructure,” Shiv muttered, looking at the customers, wondering if they knew what was nearby.

“That is the point of the Elaboration. If it was a large, obvious building, well, it would be particularly easy to compromise.” A bead of silence passed between them. “Of course, with how deeply we were penetrated at Passage, I am not sure if these measures are even enough. Perhaps we are merely lying to ourselves, and this secrecy is only a means of psychological comfort rather than outright effectiveness.” She let out a breath as Shiv opened the door for her. She gave him an appreciative smile. “I must admit, you are a run of good fortune.”

“Oh, for you personally or the city?”

“Yes,” she answered mathematically. “The Jealousy, Passage, everything you’ve done thus far, has benefited the city greatly. And, well, it’s made my days and nights more interesting.”

“More interesting?” Shiv said, chuckling. “That’s your approximation of me?”

“Well, you’ve also woken up a certain gluttony inside of me,” her voice turned low and husky, but she controlled herself. “But, before we make a mess of ourselves again, I think we should get some matters done.”

Shiv looked up. The orbs above the skyscrapers were practically dark. “Uva, I think it’s well past midnight.”

“So?” she said. “As Pathbearers, sleeping is only for matters of exhaustion. And exhaustion comes later.”

Shiv paused as he processed her words. “Later… Wait. Let’s do this first. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 

Shiv blinked. “What are you—”

He wrapped an arm around her, and her eyes widened briefly before she clung onto him. “Do not drop me.”

“I won’t.”

And do not splatter me, as Adam said.”

Shiv stared at her. “I won’t.”

She nodded. “I’m trusting you.”

“Okay,” Shiv said. “Now you’re making me nervous.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “Do not splatter me, Shiv. I will haunt you. I will burrow into your mind and leave an imprint of myself perpetually frowning at you.”

And that was a torment Shiv didn’t want to deal with. With a hop, they drifted upwards like a balloon instead of a soaring missile. As they climbed in an awkward hover, drawing attention from people all around. But the gravitic field held, and Shiv tugged them along slowly, their forms bobbing up and down the air, drifting through the sky.

“This is,” she said as they bounced slightly, “rather comforting, like being a child in a cradle.”

“Yeah,” Shiv muttered. “It’s also kind of awkward.”

She stared at him. “Do you want to go faster? 

“Aren’t you afraid of getting splattered?”

She considered it for a moment. “Well… We can… accelerate slowly…”

Shiv shrugged. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not with my field. And not with my Woundeaters.”

“If you use your Woundeaters on me, you’re still getting the frown.”

“Got it.”

And then, with a harder lurch, they shot across the city like an surging tide. The speed made her heart rate increase, made her adrenaline spike, and sent a thrill through her. Shiv could feel the thrill, feel her mind bound to his, and to his surprise, he really liked it too.

Uva liked going fast. She liked sprinting to the scene of danger. She liked charging at fires. She liked diving onto out-of-control demons to calm them with her mind magic. That, that was the favorite part of her job. And she really, really liked this.

“You know,” Shiv said as they shot over a manta-shaped demon, causing everyone on top of it to look up and point, “Adam’s a pretty good flyer. He glides, he twists through the air.”

“But?” Uva asked.

“But he’s where he’s got speed and grace, I have horsepower.”

Silver Tongue > 15

“Oh? Well, then show me? I do wonder what it’s like to be carried across the world by a hurricane.”

Shiv laughed and did as the lady asked. With a new pull of his field, they blasted through the air. Buildings rolled by below like waves, and the horizon zoomed towards them.

Weave had a different look when you were traveling just below the limits of the sound barrier. Different, colorful, and Uva’s barely suppressed squeals of laughter made it all a delight.