Engines of Obsession: Chapter 27

Chapter 27: The Road Ahead

Turner settled into a chair and let out a heavy sigh.

"That doesn't sound good," Martin noted from the table.

With Milo down for a while, Martin had taken the time to do thorough maintenance on the Wellrights' rifle, and it was stripped down into multiple pieces over the table. The oily scent of grease now overpowered the vinegar smell that had lingered the last few days, though Turner knew from experience that neither would last much beyond when they left. Nora was far too careful about that sort of thing, and saved any truly sense-addling procedures for a proper alchemist's table.

Turner shook his head, "No, it's fine. Just a lot of running around, and now I'm a bit tuckered out." He lifted his arms up and tucked his hands behind his head.

Nora finished scratching the notes she was taking into her small journal, and looked up toward the other two. "What is the plan so far?"

A soft grunt, and Turner shrugged. Then, seeing Milo open his eyes and looking on curiously, he finally spoke up. Now he wouldn't have to repeat anything.

"Byron's coming up here soon... ish. You know how schedules with the nobility can be," he answered. Turner kept his relaxed pose, resting his head in his hands to help alleviate the ache in his neck and shoulders. "He's a little skeptical of funding a full expedition into the wildlands, and I can't say I blame him. But he's willing to hear us out, and even if he doesn't approve it, he'll pay us for what we've already found."

Nora frowned, "Is it... safe to tell him everything?" She nodded toward the journal, currently open beside her, but Turner caught the meaning.

"I'm not telling him the things that are private," he replied. "But even without that, we can give a few details. The fact that she's altered Fate... I've never even heard of that in a serious story. That's the stuff of myth. I'm not even sure he'd believe it."

Nora gave a vague shake of her head. "I've never heard of a mortal being doing that, no. It's the field of stories and legends, done by gods and giants." She tapped her pen lightly on the blotter, preparing to close everything up. "You'll have to frame it as altering probability or something more scientific."

Milo groaned softly, making Turner flinch, until he realized the young hunter wasn't groaning in pain.

Instead, Milo grumbled, "Half of me wants to see this place, but the other half of me wants to run away from this as far as possible. If Vale is right, that would be kind of pointless."

"Not really," Nora countered. "If you ran now, you probably could keep away from her and her constructs well enough. Fate is powerful and inevitable, but not instantaneous. You can run from it, but..."

Martin finished for her, quietly. "We'd never be able to stop, or it would catch up."

Rather than let them wallow in that, Turner cut in. "The important thing is we be prepared for this trip. You don't have to come, but I don't see many options. If the Middletons had some secret base they felt they needed to hide in the wildlands, that's the best chance we have of finding a way to untangle ourselves from this mess."

That made Milo pause, looking thoughtful. "But... doesn't going to that place tangle us up more, first?" He groaned again. "This is making my head hurt."

"It's a trap," Nora agreed. "No matter what you do, you're stuck. We either wait here for another mess to happen, or we try to find out more."

She patted the journal beside her. "Vale wrote encounters down, she just didn't describe them. I've been looking at the surrounding entries to see if I could pinpoint where they were, and how she was tracking them. I've already figured out she was indirectly mapping safer routes through the wildlands, if you knew where to look."

Milo's interest piqued. "Did you find out roughly where that base was? Where exactly are we headed, once I'm properly on my feet."

"Slow down, Milo," Turner frowned. "We still aren't leaving until spring."

"I know, I know," the hunter sighed. "I just feel so useless right now. And we're farther north, so winter here will probably just lock us in."

Nora chuckled, "We aren't that much farther north. Winter here is mostly cold and miserable, it doesn't snow much. You'll be fine."

Her smile faded as she got to the original question. "As for where those coordinates are... they're westward, yes. Pretty far west, and south as well. The maps we have aren't perfectly accurate for the wildlands, but I'm very, very certain that it's on the westward side of the Black Mountain."

Turner flinched. "That explains why it was so secret. And why they took an airship. I'm pretty sure Byron won't spring for one of those."

Nora shook her head, "Oh, we wouldn't want to anyway. An unannounced airship coming in? I'm pretty sure this place will be defended, and he definitely can't afford a warship. It's going to be a messy trek on foot."

Despite Milo's curiosity, Martin spoke up, likely to keep Milo from talking and aggravating his injury. "Why is that worse? Do the creatures get worse the farther in you go? Is the Black Mountain dangerous?"

Nora looked to Turner, who shrugged as he considered the questions. He lowered his hands to drum them on his thigh, thinking about how to answer.

"The Black Mountain itself isn't... well, it is dangerous, but not much more so than any other mountain of its size." He shrugged again. "It's famous because it's a landmark, and very few explorers ever get to its base. A few have managed to go around, but most of that land is very sketchily mapped out these days."

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, which made a plaintive creak. "And yes, the creatures do get more dangerous, but it's mostly just... more wild. Poisons and the like are more potent, animals larger and more fearless. The problem is how slow progress is. They're dangerous but can be handled, except that if it takes you months to move through, they'll eventually get you."

That made Milo frown, and Martin nodded slowly, then asked, "It's just slow going because of... no roads?"

"Basically," Turner agreed. "No roads and all the wetlands and rivers. As you go west, the whole place is just criss-crossed with rivers and streams. The bugs are bad most of the year, marsh fever's always a danger, and a lot of the rivers are wide enough that finding a place to ford can take days off your route."

Another groan from Milo, and he muttered, "I'm liking this less and less..."

"Ahem..."

Nora cleared her throat and tapped the journal. "It isn't quite so bad. I can protect us from marsh fever, if we have the materials. They're not cheap, but it won't bankrupt us." She closed the book and held it up. "More importantly, Vale made the trip on foot at least once. With her notes it goes from impossible to merely difficult."

That made Turner sit up and take notice. "She mapped out the bridges?"

A nod from Nora made him smile, though Milo just looked more confused.

"Wait... bridges? Who built them if it's so dangerous?" Milo muttered. Martin looked thoughtful, but had stopped speaking for Milo now.

The question made Nora smile. "Ah... the Old Empire, of course." She pointed westward, which was just a wall in the inn from this position. "The wildlands weren't quite so bad back then. Nobody is sure why they suddenly got worse, but it happened shortly after the fall of the Empire. Before that, they had road networks that went far to the west, and even mined the Black Mountain."

Martin grunted, "You'd think we could do the same, with all our fancy technology."

"We likely could," Nora agreed. "If the wildlands hadn't taken over... and if we could unify the countries like the Empire did. The Confederacy comes close, but they don't have the sheer economic pull to put so much into infrastructure."

More grumbles rose from Martin, so Turner had to step in now.

"Look, the important thing is that we know a little of what we're getting into." He pointed to Milo. "You, rest and relax and catch up on your studies. I know Nora's been sneaking tutoring time in."

Then he pointed to Martin, "You and I will go hunting for more reliable equipment and weapons. I want a list of preparations we can provide Byron when he arrives. We want a good plan put forward."

Nora sighed and looked down at the journal. "Six months. It should be plenty of time."

Later, Turner wondered if she'd started the avalanche with those words.