After climbing to reach the floor of the coach, Jace opened a hatch and several items fell. He jumped down and started rummaging. From outside, Cole heard the faint trickle of the stream.
“You didn’t seem like yourself back there,” Cole said to Bertram. “You screamed.”
The old guy blinked. “I’m no longer a spring chicken. The young must forgive us older gents a little episode from time to time. I’ve been under the weather. I won’t let it ruin our holiday.”
Jace dropped down. “We should go,” he said, backing out of the coach.
Cole held up a finger to tell him to wait. He tried to frame a question in terms that might enable Bertram to respond. “Our holiday is in trouble. The coach went wild and crashed. How will we get to Elloweer now? What happened?”
Bertram gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “The coach did what it had to do.”
“The coach takes orders from Mira,” Cole said. “It doesn’t go fast. What happened?”
“It performed as required,” Bertram said. “So did I.”
“Who gave the order?” Cole asked. “Who changed the autocoach?”
Bertram looked unperturbed. “You youngsters may have to go ahead without me for now. The coach is in poor repair. Might do me some good to rest here for a time. This holiday has worn me out! Every uncle has his limits.”
“Come on,” Jace urged. “I grabbed the money and some food.”
“Bye, Bertram,” Cole said. “Thanks for the holiday.”
Bertram gave a nod. “You’re a fine grandnephew.”
Cole stepped out of the autocoach.
“Are those tears?” Jace asked.
Cole wiped his eyes and glanced away. “No.”
“He isn’t real,” Jace said. “He’s a semblance. He was constructed.”
Cole sighed. “That almost makes it worse. He’ll just sit there thinking he’s supposed to be on vacation with us.”
“He’s not thinking,” Jace said. “He just blabs the kind of stuff Declan taught him to say. Don’t be sad for him. Just be sad we lost our ride. Let’s go find Mira.”
“What about the guys you took out with your rope?” Cole asked. “Should we check if they’re alive?”
“No chance,” Jace said. “They tried to kill us. I didn’t hold back.”
“They had armor.”
“Armor won’t protect you from falling off a cliff. I threw them hard. Joe wasn’t worried about them.”
“Joe was in a hurry,” Cole pointed out.
Jace exhaled sharply. “Fine. You take that one.” He pointed toward the man closest to them. Jace’s rope coiled like a spring, then uncoiled, launching him over to where the farthest of the two fallen riders had been thrown. The rope coiled ahead of him to soften his landing.
Cole trotted over to the other rider. The front of his helmet and breastplate were badly dented from the impact with the boulder. The figure didn’t move. Cole knelt beside him and put his ear by the helmet, listening for breathing. He heard nothing.
“Die!” a voice said as hands grabbed Cole by the shoulders from behind.
Cole jumped and turned, startled enough to make Jace laugh.
“The other guy is no longer with us,” Jace said. “We’re wasting time. Let’s fly.”
His rope coiled again, and Jace shot up the slope. Cole pointed his sword, spoke the command, and whooshed upward.
No matter how many times Cole did it, jumping with the sword remained exhilarating, partly because he always felt a little out of control. Landing tended to be the trickiest part. Cole had learned that if he immediately took another sword-assisted jump instead of coming to a full stop, the impact was greatly reduced. So he strung together some jumps up the slope, over to the bridge, and along the road until he saw Twitch and Mira waving at him from up ahead.
Pointing his blade at a spot near his friends, Cole shouted the command again and flew through the air toward them. The sword slowed him at the last second, but not enough to prevent him from stumbling to his knees on the dirt road.
While bounding with the sword, Cole had passed Jace, who was using his rope to grab trees beside the road and slingshot himself forward. Jace caught up by the time Cole rose to his feet.
“You need to practice those landings,” Jace said.
“You need to work on your speed,” Cole shot back.
Jace gestured toward the side of the road. “What’s that supposed to be?”
Cole turned to see a misshapen brown lump the height of his waist rocking back and forth on two uneven legs. Perhaps sensing the attention, the ungainly object hobbled toward them.
“Mira tried to shape something for us to ride to Carthage,” Twitch explained.
Jace exploded into laughter. “That? It looks like a walking mud ball.”
Cole tried not to laugh. The description was pretty accurate.
“I was rushed,” Mira said, flustered. “Making semblances is very hard. Even the best shapers take their time when simulating life.”
“So why try?” Jace asked.
Mira shrugged. “I saw what my power can do when we fought Carnag. Remember how big it was? How well it simulated me and my father? That power is inside of me now. I just have to learn to use it. I know I’m capable of big feats of shaping. I thought maybe if I harnessed my desperation, I could shape something useful.”
The mud ball toddled over to Jace, then bumped into his leg and tipped over. The undersized semblance started to sway gently and made a garbled, squishy sound.
“Is it trying to speak?” Jace asked. “You know, it looks a little like Twitch. Was he your model?”
“Stop it,” Mira said, swatting Jace on the shoulder. She staggered, and he caught hold of her.
“What’s the matter?” Jace asked.
“The effort took a lot out of me,” Mira said. “I’ll be all right.”
“You realize we have a long way to go,” Cole reminded her.
“I was trying to make it easier for all of us,” Mira said. They watched the misshapen little semblance as it tried to rock back into a standing position. Mira gave a little laugh. “It was supposed to be bigger.”
Her comment freed the others to laugh, and they did.
“Are you telling it to move?” Cole wondered.
“I designed it to follow us when we weren’t riding it,” Mira explained. “I think it understands that part. It was supposed to have four legs. And it was supposed to obey instructions from me, but it seems mostly oblivious.”