Chapter 10: On the Road Again

Without the initial pressure of adapting to a new world, then trying to make a plan, then having the plan upended and having to battle an insane golem-maker and flee the only friendly town she’d found, Cecilia should have been able to relax. Even with the hardships of a hike through forest that, to her city-dwelling eyes, looked downright primordial, there was no doubt that the individual days had quickly become peaceful, even monotonous. Shin took the lead in guiding them and hunting provisions; Cantor had enough knowledge to identify herbs and edible fruits but the spells he had available were only useful for hunting if you didn’t mind the meat seared in some places and raw in others. So Shin hunted, Cantor gathered, and Cecilia…

“I don’t see why we have to haul all of this stuff.” Cecilia adjusted the shoulder frame that Shin had made for her. It would have toppled either of the other two, especially stacked with preserved hides and various alchemical reagents as it was. Even with her golem strength and the center of gravity afforded by being made, quite literally, of stone, she had to lean forward to keep from being pulled backwards.

“We cannot leave the hides to rot,” Shin said, not even looking back as she guided them through the dim, dense forest. Although there wasn’t much in the way of underbrush, the carpet of fallen leaves, half rotted and warm to the touch, was several inches thick. Not only did their feet sink with each step, but it covered up treacherous holes and provided cover for various nasty little critters. Shin’s eyes were locked on the ground as she walked, and her voice was distracted. “It’s disrespectful. And we’ll need money.”

“Okay, I get that. But why do I have to carry all of it? Cantor’s platform spell–”

“Requires azoth to cast and maintain, and without my workbench, I can’t distill the potions that would allow me to refill my azoth on a regular basis.” Cantor wiped the sweat from his face. He’d taken off his robes after the second day in the woods, and they were also stacked in the frame on Cecilia’s back. He still looked hot and miserable in the lighter tunic and trousers that he’d worn beneath them. It was stifling under the canopy. “Would you rather have a lighter burden now, but no magical support should we encounter hostilities?”

Cecilia made a frustrated, defeated sound. “No. But these straps chafe.”

“How does anything chafe?” Shin asked, half-exasperated and half-curious. “You have no skin.”

“I don’t know!” Cecilia’s shrug let the frame pull back on her shoulders and she grabbed at a nearby tree trunk to keep from tumbling backwards. “It just does. I can feel everything. And I’m not complaining–”

“Yes, you are,” both her friends chorused in unison. Only to fall into an awkward moment of silence immediately after; although Shin seemed to have forgiven Cecilia for her deception, and Cecilia had, in turn, forgiven Shin for her part in their capture, tension still remained on both sides between Shin and Cantor.

Cecilia broke into the silence as it stretched. “Fine, I’m complaining. But what I mean to say is that I’m pretty sure this thing is at its limit - it creaks with every step, and that leather you rigged up is stretching every time I take it off. And I may have superstrength, but I’m starting to feel like a donkey, here.”

The word she spoke wasn’t donkey but it seemed to get across the gist of the idea, because Shin snorted, and said, “But we are grateful that you do not smell like one.”

“No, that would be the two of us,” Cantor put in, and lifted a sleeve to sniff dramatically at the cuff. “I would cut my hair as an offering to Xorr Cano in exchange for a hot bath and plenty of soap.”

It was, unfortunately, true. Cecilia had a lot of problems with her new and distinctly non-human body, but there were advantages that had been thrown into stark relief by the four days they’d been traveling through the woods. She didn’t sweat, for one. And when the inescapable humidity and dirt dried on her skin and her clothing, it mostly just smelled like…dirt. The same could not be said for Cantor or Shin, and the lack of water sources meant that their canteens had been reserved exclusively for drinking water. Needless to say, two of the three travelers were beginning to smell more than a little ripe.

“How much further until we reach the city?” Cecilia asked.

“Two to three days to reach the first Wardstones, another day or two after that,” Shin said, after taking a moment to think about it. Or consult a Skill; Cecilia suspected that she had one for orienteering, but hadn’t asked. It was just something in the way her head cocked to one side, as if she was listening to a voice inside her head. It reminded her of someone listening to a Bluetooth earpiece on the train back home. “We will meet the Soutroad today.”

Cantor bristled. “Do you think that wise? We are hunted, and the Southroad is well traveled.”

“No choice. We’ll look like bandits if we cut across the fields. On the road, we blend in. On farms, we stand out.”

“If we travel exclusively by night–”

“We’ll look like sneaky bandits, and set every watchbeast into alarm. And double our travel time. We won’t be able to hunt in the fields. Unless you want to steal?” Now, Shin turned back to stare at Cantor.

He turned pink and looked away. “Of course not. I simply don’t want us to attract undue attention.”

“Then we take the road. And disguise ourselves. You’re a mage; surely you know illusions?”

For some reason, that perked Cantor up. Proudly, he said, “I can do better than illusions. Several of the herbs I’ve been gathering during our journey contain simple dyes. With some of the fat you’ve rendered from your kills, and a few other ingredients, we can have disguises that won’t trigger any magical senses. And Cecilia can, of course, take whatever appearance she likes.”

Cecilia twitched. It was technically true, but her immediate and powerful reaction to the idea was a stomach-turning nausea. She pressed her lips together against her urge to shoot it down. They did need disguises, and Cecilia more than any of them - it was her, the golem with a soul from another world and a heart made of some incredibly valuable jewel - who was actually being hunted, after all. Shin and Cantor would be fine, if they only abandoned her.

They hadn’t. She was beyond grateful. But the alien body she’d been drawn into was something she tried very hard to ignore. The Doll’s Disguise was about the only thing that let her pretend that everything was okay. “What did you have in mind?” she asked, trying her best to keep her voice light and unconcerned.

She must have done a good job, because Cantor continued with enthusiasm, “Ideally, a shift of gender, along with a change of coloration. Height and body type, too, if you can manage it. People will be looking for two women and a man. Two men and a woman will be more difficult to link with us. I’d suggest that we try for three men, but we haven’t the binding materials for Shin to pass, and without a lot of padding, I’ve no hope for passing for a woman, so three women is equally unlikely.”

Cecilia had to concede the point, privately. Cantor was tall, skinny, but with broad shoulders and narrow hips, and his features leaned masculine. Shin was closer to androgynous, but it’d still take a lot more work for either of them to pass. All Cecilia had to do was visualize herself differently, and she would be different.

Then she wouldn’t look at all like herself. Which is the point of a disguise, dummy. The self-mockery didn’t help. She could feel her breath trying to speed up, and if her palms could sweat, they would be. She rubbed them instinctively on her trousers, anyway. “It’d just be until we reach the city, right?”

“Ideally, we would–” Something must have shown on her face, despite her best efforts. Cantor broke off, and said, “Yes. Once we reach the city we could find other ways to deal with our pursuers. Your normal appearance isn’t that distinctive, anyway. As long as we’re careful, it should be fine.”

They were only in this mess because of her. She took a deep breath, and nodded. “Fine, let’s do it, then. At least on a road we won’t have to be watching for those weird mold-snake things all the time.”

Cantor’s brow furrowed. It looked as if he might say something more, but Shin said, “There’s a bluff up ahead. We can camp there so you can make your dyes, Cantor.” Whatever he might have offered was lost, and they hastened to the camp.

It took several hours before they were ready to bury the ashes of the camp - those that hadn’t been used in the dye-making, at least. Cecilia had assumed that Cantor would be limited to what she considered the ‘normal’ range of hair dyes considering the general tech level of the world; she’d forgotten for a moment that what was normal for his world was very different than what she was used to, and that Cantor was using alchemy, not chemistry, in his craft.

Shin’s blond hair was now a deep green with dark blue highlights, while Cantor had gone lighter, a rose pink that gave his silver eyes a notably warmer tint. He’d also made some cream that they both had run through their hair to make it poof outward and curl tightly. Here and there, some artistic levels of dirt had been applied to their face and exposed skin, which made their natural skintone a bit more difficult to nail down. Cecilia had to admit that they looked very little like they had this morning.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“Are you sure that this isn’t going to attract attention?” She couldn’t help but stare at their identical, poofy, curly, technicolor hair-dos.

Cantor gave her a puzzled look. “Why would it?”

“No reason,” she muttered.

He clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Well, then. Your turn.”

“Right.” The campsite was all packed up, and all possible procrastination had been done. Cecilia closed her eyes. With Shin and Cantor’s help, she’d come up with an alternate disguise. Activating it wasn’t difficult; it only took a moment of will. When she opened her eyes again, it was done. She knew what they were seeing: a man in his mid to late thirties, taller than her by about three inches, and built like a refrigerator, so that her strength wouldn’t be as notable. Her skin was the color of teak, even to the slightly green, woody undertones, and her hair was cropped close to her head, a bright copper-gold that matched her eyes. “How do I look?” Her voice startled her; it was lower and more masculine.

“Nothing like yourself,” Shin said, giving her a slow once over. “It will do.”

It’s just until the city, Cecilia reminded herself. She tried to smile. “Okay, then I guess we’re off to the Southroad, huh?”

*

They made good time, after that, and it was just as the lower rim of the sun touched the horizon that they broke through the treeline and onto the Southroad. In the back of her mind, Cecilia had pictured something that was nothing more than a wide dirt road, like the kind you might see in the movies. Ikshan’s roads had been nothing more than that, where they weren’t just beaten down grasses.

So when she finally saw the road, Cecilia couldn’t help but stop and stare. It was wide, certainly - as wide as a four-lane highway in her own world. But it was neither dirt nor pavement. Instead, hexagonal tiles of what seemed to be some sort of polished stone filled the space from end to end, so tightly fitted to one another that there wasn’t room for even a blade of grass between them. On the other side of the road, there was only a small shoulder, then a steep drop to more forest below. The breathtaking sunset view was reflected in the polished road, staining the pale tiles in shades of red and fiery orange. They had emerged on a curve; ahead the road hugged the cliff and curved out of sight, disappearing into the thick tree cover. Cecilia bent down and poked at one of the tiles. Her finger and the tile clinked as they connected. “Who made this? Who maintains it?”

“The Imperial Roadwright Guild,” Cantor said, giving her a curious look. “They’re very specialized mages and artisans who devote their lives to maintaining the major roads for the Imperial vassals–ah, that’s right.” He chuckled. “You wouldn’t have seen them before. Ikshan’s a free holding, after all.” He looked over the roads. “They’re actually fascinating, on both arcane and engineering levels. The spells laid in each tile clear the road of minor debris, while absorbing water, purifying it, and conveying it to the reservoirs along the roads’ routes. Those reservoirs, in turn, supply the major towns and cities of the Empire. It allows the Empire to sponsor expansion into new territory without having to worry as much about water supplies, not to mention allowing Imperial cities and towns to grow larger than they might, otherwise.” He also bent over, and placed his hand on one of the smooth tiles. It glowed a pale blue under his skin. “See? Packed full of water azoth, despite being made of stone. That’s high circle magic, and a trade secret of the Guild. I’ve always wondered if it’s a Skill or a spell–”

He broke off as an inhuman scream of distress rent the air. Cantor and Cecilia straightened with a snap - the latter almost tumbling back on her rear from the weight of the frame on her shoulders. “What was that?”

Shin frowned, her eyes fixed on the curve of the road that led out of sight. “Cargo lizards. Must be a wagon up ahead.”

Cantor made a quick gesture, and the firefly spell sparked around him, the tiny glowing motes drawing in power and strength. “Bandits, do you think?”

She shook her head. “No sign of any in the woods. And this close to the Wardstones? They’d have to be fools.”

The sound rang out again, and this time Cecilia could hear something else beneath it; a sort of crackling, tearing sound. She started to run. “It doesn’t matter what it is. If there’s a wagon, then people must be in trouble.”

Shin wasted no time running with her. Cantor muttered, “What part of fugitive do you two not understand?” but followed.

Despite the painful bounce of the frame on her shoulders, it took Cecilia less than a minute at a flat out run to round the curve and see the problem. A large wagon, drawn by two creatures that looked like bearded dragons with stubby tails scaled up to the size of draft horses, listed dangerously against the cliff, one of its rear wheels discarded on the road behind it, and the weight of it slowly pulling it off the road, despite the frantically scrabbling beasts, and the efforts of what appeared to be its only driver. The driver was a man at first glance, in sturdy traveling clothes. He was well-built, his shoulder jammed hard against the sliding corner of the wagon, but Cecilia could easily see that, unless he had dropped all of his stat points in Strength, he was going to lose that fight.

Cecilia shrugged off the frame and tossed it to the road. She winced as she heard something splinter, but didn’t slow down. Instead, she sprang forward to grab the other rear corner of the wagon and planted herself. The man gave her a startled look; his eyes were bright, clear green, almost unnaturally so in his olive face, now gone plummy and red with effort.

“Who–”

“Here!” His question broke off as Shin arrived on Cecilia’s heels. She didn’t join the golem in trying to physically haul the wagon back on the road. Instead, she ran to the front of the wagon, and laid her hands on the beasts’ harness. Both lizards hissed, but began to pull harder. Cecilia groaned as her heels skidded on the tile and her arms felt as if they were being wrenched from her sockets.

“It’s not…working. What do you have in this damn thing, rocks?”

The driver scowled. “Trade goods! What else goes in a wagon?” His shoulder slipped, and so did the wagon itself, and they both scrabbled frantically to maintain a hold on it. “The soil’s too slippery on this side,” he shouted. “It’s going to fall! I’ve gotta let go or it’ll take me with it!”

“Hold on,” Cantor shouted, sounding considerably more winded than any of the rest of them. His hands rose in a complicated dance, and the wagon suddenly shuddered, halting in its inexorable slide over the cliff. Cantor pushed the air, and the pressure on her arms lessened. She, the driver, and the lizards under Shin’s guidance threw their weight into the struggle. Bit by bit, the wagon moved. The wood creaked and groaned as it was shoved sideways, back onto the road. Cecilia almost screamed as something gave way with a sharp crack; the other back wheel splintered, and she jumped back before the falling rear could crush her foot.

After that, the wagon would move no further. “At least,” she panted, “it’s not falling anymore.”

The driver groaned, raised his hands as if to rub his face - then stopped, seeing that they were splintered and torn in places, bleeding lightly. “That was closer than I’d like to think. Thank you, kind travelers.” Although his examination of the three of them was more curious than grateful. “I’d not expected to meet much traffic until the Wardstones.”

“Lucky for you, we were here,” Shin said, briskly. She snapped her fingers at his hands, and he extended them meekly, only to try and retrieve them when she started yanking out splinters with a force that made even Cecilia, with her stone skin, wince. “Keep still. This would hurt more if I were slow.”

“I’ll get some of the healing herbs,” Cantor said. He grimaced at the frame in the middle of the road. “Assuming they’re not destroyed.”

“Hey,” Cecilia panted, “you try running with what feels like a dresser strapped to your back.”

“You’re…peddlers, then? Heading for Can Gallos next?”

The three exchanged looks. Cantor gingerly rolled the frame over and opened a few patches, before speaking up. “We’re not guilded merchants, no, but it seemed a shame not to gather a few goods on our way. We’re bound for Can Gullee, ultimately, but do plan to stop over in Can Gallos for a while. You’re a White Wing?” He nodded to the painted side of the wagon as he brought over the healing herbs for Shin. A long, somewhat equine animal with white wings and golden hooves stretched along its side.

The driver’s sheepish chuckle turned to a hiss as Shin crushed and smeared the herbs on his skin. “No, actually. I’m a scribe, heading to a new post under the Viscount. But an acquaintance needed this wagon guided to the city. He swore that it wouldn’t be any trouble. Practically drove itself, he said.” Exasperation colored the man’s tone. “And then, this morning, the back wheels started making the most godawful noises, and then one of them just snapped right as I was going around the curve. I was near the edge, and–” he gestured with herb-smeared hands at the cliffside.

Shin looked at the driver, then at the wagon, and finally at the cliff. “Why did you not stop and wait for another wagon to pass by?” She moved to the side of the wagon and lowered herself to the road until she could see underneath. “Your axle is shattered. It must have splintered along the way.”

The driver’s face was a deep and embarrassed shade of red. “I thought that maybe it just needed oil…or something? And I couldn’t find any. So I thought that I could just…ignore it. For a bit. And fix it once I reached town.”

Shin’s face said exactly what she thought of his reasoning processes. To Cecilia and Cantor, she said, “It is not repairable, unless you have magic for it.” This, to Cantor, directly.

He shook his head. “Not for something as large and as damaged as this. He could camp here until a wagon comes along. They might have some replacement parts and the expertise to use them.”

“We can’t just leave the guy stranded. Besides, what if someone tries to take whatever’s in there? He’s a sitting duck!” From the startled blink from three sets of eyes, either that wasn’t a common expression on this world, or the fantasy version of a “duck” was a strange bird indeed. Then again, Cecilia glanced at the cargo lizards, that wouldn’t surprise her.

“He can come with us,” Shin said, with a shrug. “Four is safer than three.”

“I can’t just leave everything,” the man said, apologetically. “I promised my acquaintance I’d convey it to the city, and if a wagon guarded by one is a, ah, sitting duck, then how much so a wagon guarded by none at all?” He sighed. “Thank you three for the help, but I suppose the best option would be for me to camp here, and hope someone comes by with the ability to get this thing moving again. It’s a major road, so I shouldn’t be waiting too long.”

Cecilia walked around the wagon; the front half seemed perfectly intact, from what little she knew of wagons. The lizards eyed her without concern; now that the wagon wasn’t trying to actively fall off a cliff, they seemed content to snap at flying insects and lower their bellies to rest them against the tiled road. “How did you push the wagon back to the road?” she asked Cantor.

“Platform spell,” he said, immediately. “I just cast it at an angle so that it was resting against the wall of the wagon rather than–” his eyes lit up. “Oh. I see what you’re thinking.” He gave the wagon a critical once over. “Yes, I suppose that would work. It’d strain me, though. By the time we got to the city, I’d be completely out of azoth.”

The driver straightened from his despondent slump. “I could pay,” he said, immediately. “If you can get me and that wagon to the city, good sirs and madam, I’d be happy to pay for a night’s lodging, potions for your needs, and even a bit on top of that. My word on it.”

Cecilia widened her eyes at Cantor. He sighed, but didn’t protest. Shin grinned at his obvious disgruntlement, then thrust her hand out to the man. “Dai. That’s Ohta,” a nod to Cantor, “and that’s Jon.” They’d agreed on the false names while working out their costumes, and Cecilia had been relieved to find that at least one name seemed equally popular on her own world as well as this one.

The driver clasped Shin’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Dai, nice to meet you. I’m Mynet.” He rose to his feet and grinned at them. “And I’m very grateful for your assistance.”