138. Baby Steps

The trio soon reached the base of the Apical Bough. Serac acted as lookout while Petter helped Zacko complete his infiltration—first by 'seasoning' him with SHAKER.

"I know that look," Zacko complained as he got covered from head to toe in ripple-masking crystals. "You're still holding a grudge from that thing I said when we first met, aren't you?"

"I would never!" from Petter, as modest and sincere as always. "I'm just glad to finally be a useful member of Team Serac, that's all!" "You've always been an invaluable member of Team Serac." A correction from the team's namesake. "That hasn't changed and won't ever change, no matter what hijinx we get up to next!"

Serac too had been sincere with her praise, but to her bemusement, it was met with a hesitant sort of silence. She took a peek over her shoulder, catching Zacko's crystal-lidded eyes. Did I say something wrong? She tried to ask without asking, but the only response she got was a wry shake of the head.

Once Zacko was nicely seasoned, Petter proceeded to 're-open' the entry point. Then both boys disappeared into the multi-layered walls of the Apical Bough, as easily as slipping through an open window. The only real tricky part was avoiding the splashes from the waterfalls, lest they wash away the crystals.

Serac had a brief moment to herself while waiting for Petter to return. She used her scrawny Rakshasa frame to hide the hole as well as possible, but out of an abundance of caution rather than real need. None of her eyes, ears, nor horns picked up any signs of potential interference.

But a part of her was still hung up about the earlier exchange. She turned to the second opinion of someone who, of late, had become a reliable commentator on Yaksha psychology.

Trippy? Did I upset Petey somehow? And if I did, any ideas why?

"Not with absolute certainty, Wayfarer. This Petter Svensen, for all his amiable manners, tends to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. If I were to hazard a guess, however, this is a classic case of a hatchling spreading his wings."

A hatchling? But Petey isn't—

"Compared to you and Zacarias Borges-Juventus, he might as well be. And just as the two of you have your own ideas about how Wayfarers ought to be, so too does Petter Svensen. Or, perhaps it's more accurate to say that he's in the midst of forming his own philosophy—one that may or may not align with yours."

Now, this did come as a bit of a wake-up call for Serac. To her, her friendships with the likes of Petter, Renate, and even the Tomasens were a foregone conclusion—something to be cherished and nurtured, no matter what hijinx she might get up to next. But did they see it that way? They were, after all, her competition on the climb to the top of Mount Meru.

"Miss Serac? Are you alright?"

Petter had emerged out of the hole. Serac turned to him, slow to shake off her own innermost thoughts. The mackerel looked as round-eyed and earnest as ever, but the familiar sight gave Serac little comfort in the moment.

I'm not looking for comfort, she reminded herself. I'm here to do a job, so let's stay focused on that.

"All good. Let's keep moving."

Petter used MATCHSTICK to refill the hole, 'loosely' so as to leave an exit for Zacko and co. Then the pair proceeded to circle around the back of the outer walls, guided by Petter's 'intel'. The Krongardians hadn't been so kind as to lay down footpaths for potential thieves and smugglers. As such, this next portion of the mission turned out to be a rocky, slippery, and treacherous hike through the 'underside' of the Apical Bough.

Here, swaths of leaves grew out of the Bough and 'caught' the waterfalls, thereby shaping the Sanzu's first set of offshoots. A remarkable sight, but they were also a constant reminder that the Wayfarers were one slip away from a fatal accident—and a lengthy trip back to the Hubstation.

I probably could use TERRAFORMER again to save myself, Serac mused, even as she did her best to look anywhere but down. But I need to save my [Satiety] for when I really need it.

Indeed, that was another annoyance caused by Eddur Lokksen. Serac had very little to eat since her duel, namely a strip of [Ulvknall Liver] and a piece of stale bread the prison guard had been so 'kind' to share with her. It was nowhere near as filling as the Kronvakt breakfast she'd missed out on, putting her current [Satiety] in the mid-40s. All the more reason for her to be judicious with her resources.

The 'hike' also demanded finesse and patience on top of sound judgment. It was hard work holding onto the slippery rocks, forcing Serac to watch her Stamina like a hawk while she strained all kinds of muscles, including ones she didn't know she had.

The Wayfarers' progress slowed to a crawl. By the time they reached their destination, dawn had well and truly broken, casting the surroundings in a bright celadon glow. Good news is they haven't bothered to post any guards on this side of the Apical Bough.

Even better news was that Serac and Petter had found what they'd been looking for: a sheer, amber wall that rose from an overhanging branch. It was rather well-hidden, thanks to the waterfall sprays and surrounding greenery, but its structure marked it out as something clearly Yaksha-made—a vertical plane, flattening out at about a hundred feet above Serac's current position.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Just as… wet and slick… as these rocks," Petter observed, his words coming out in short bursts in between heavy breaths, "and nothing… in the way of… handholds or footholds…"

"Not to worry, Chef, I've got something cooking." Whether due to experience or to her superior [Abidance], Serac's breathing was much more even. "But there's a couple of different ways I could go about it. I just need to decide on which. Hmm…"

The most obvious solution was TERRAFORMER. Certainly, there was enough 'tree fodder' in the vicinity for Serac to make use of. She could grow 'ropes' for her and Petter to hang onto as they scaled the wall.

But the solution also came with a potential pitfall, just as obvious. Climbing a hundred feet of sheer wall was no small task, perhaps no less strenuous than the preceding hike. Serac might manage it in time, but it would be cutting it close—not to mention leaving her dangerously close to starvation.

Serac made her decision. First, another dose of [Rumpepille] to slow her fuel consumption, followed by a very scuffed, very burnt [Jotun-Yaki]. Bland and rubbery where Chef Petey's had been umami-rich and fluffy, but the taste made no difference as far as Pathsight was concerned. Then, to finish up her prep, Serac pointed REVOLVER into the nearest leaf and—

Bang!

The gunslinger froze, her cinnabar face losing color as she was reminded of an obvious flaw in her aspirations for thieving/smuggling.

Cycling the Chambers—a simple, routine procedure for the wielder of REVOLVER. Yet it necessarily produced a loud report, one that would surely attract the attention of a nearby guard, if it hadn't woken up everyone in the royal chambers!

Serac hugged the rock and waited, listening and reading intently for approaching souls. She then craned her neck to spy the overhang. No movement atop the balcony. Was she in the clear then?

She exchanged a look with an equally horrified Petter. He was, of course, the far better ripple-reader. And after a few more seconds of nerve-wracking silence, he gave a tentative nod of 'all clear'.

Serac let out a sigh of relief. She'd just gotten away with another one! She didn't know how, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Thankfully, the next Cartridge she was about to expend would be a 'silent' one.

The [Rumpepille] together with the [Jotun-Yaki] had pushed Serac's [Satiety] back up to around two-thirds of her maximum. That would give her about 80 seconds of [Metabolic Shift], but she hoped to use much less. What she gained in speed and expediency, however, she would have to lose in 'safety'.

"Petey…" She turned to her friend with as much as 'poise' as she could muster. "Do you trust me?"

"Trust you, Miss? Of course! When have I not?"

"Okay… in a second, I'm going to throw you up into the air. I'll try my best to set you on the right course, but you'll have to stick the landing on your own. Ready?"

"Ready! … Wait, did you say you're going to throw me—"

[Chamber Two: METABOLIC SHIFT]

[PULVERIZER Alternate Form: CONSTRICTOR]

A silent burst of green flames. PULVERIZER's craggy rocks instantly transformed, this time into an ungodly amalgam of writhing, glistening tentacles and Rakshasa anatomy.

Of all the Alternate Forms Serac had tested, she had to say this was her least favorite, purely in terms of aesthetics. But an interloper couldn't be a chooser. Upsettingly ugly though these tentacles might be, Serac couldn't deny their usefulness.

Faster than a mackerel could say '—up into the air', one of CONSTRICTOR's tentacles stretched and wrapped around Petter's waist, then threw him bodily into the air. The man spun several times, just barely skimming the amber wall, before clearing the balcony altogether. And then… he kept rising, with no signs of losing momentum.

Oh no! Serac cursed herself. I've put too much into it, and now Petey's gonna die from fall damage (because of me)! But then—

[MATCHSTICK Spell: HEAT SINK]

Flickers of green, blurred by the motion of the MATCHSTICK wielder. Even from the base of the wall, Serac could feel the sudden chill in the air. Then, to her astonishment, Petter himself 'stopped' in midair, so abruptly as to appear as though he'd been caught by an invisible net.

Thus, Petter's flight turned on a dime and began its truncated descent. He ended the last portion of it with a somersault, producing a soft thud, along with:

[138!]

So, a little bit of damage couldn't be avoided. But whatever trick Petter had used had saved him from a lethal fall. Serac didn't comprehend the magic (or was it science?) behind it, but that only made it all the more impressive in her mind. Then her admiration turned to relief as a mackerel hand reached out from the balcony, showing a thumb-up of 'all clear'.

"Ha!"

Inspired by her friend's acrobatics, Serac took to her own wall-vaulting venture with renewed gusto. But first, a 'baby step' to test the waters.

She reached up with one tentacle, leveraging its suction to grab a piece of the wall about five feet above her head. Then she pulled herself up by the tentacle, all the while readying another for a 'belay anchor'. Finally, she released the first attachment and let herself hang by the second anchor, testing its tensile strength.

It held! The system worked, exactly as how Serac had envisioned it. Now, it was a matter of just how fast she could climb. She wasted no time, swinging up for a third anchor, then a fourth, fifth, and so on, until she cleared the halfway point, when—

Whizzz!

Serac had just let go of a lower belay anchor, meaning she was hanging on by just the one tentacle. It also meant she was susceptible to falling if that one tentacle were to be knocked off by something—something like, say, the spearpoint of a HARPOON.

[174!]

And even as Serac tumbled into a freefall, she had the wherewithal to look down and identify the newest threat.

A young mackerel woman. A hatchling desperate to spread her wings. Rodrin Skjortsdatter stood at the base of the wall, HARPOON gun raised, and earnest face set in humble determination.

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