Bastion 2 - Chapter 23

Tuko swung down from the ledge and my stomach turned with the artificial sense of gravity leaving my body. My hands clamped down on my legs and Tuko-vision blotted out as I lost control.

“Shipuh!” I shouted, then bit my tongue. I breathed deep through my nose and closed my eyes, reaching out for Tuko. Mae was quiet as I followed my trail of used, faded munje through the streets. I accelerated until the buildings, barely a shadow in my mind-vision, blurred by.

There he was, dangling by his butt from the awning of the fourth floor. I connected and took stock of the damage. One of his legs was jammed, but he was still mostly functional.

“Forty percent ma remaining,” Mae alerted me.

I bumped against the wall of the building as I descended at breakneck speeds down the grappling line. There was a tug on my guts as we hit the end of the line, still two stories off the ground. The awnings around the windows were half a meter thick, and my claws were too short to reach.

“Wiggle,” Mae ordered.

I felt Mae’s influence as I moved my limbs from side to side, swinging us closer to the window. I snapped his claws around the wood and released the grappling hook, then reeled in the line.

I felt the vibrations of footsteps descending inside the building and my heart hammered with adrenaline. The grappling hook snapped into place, but I couldn’t orient myself properly to fire it into the window ledge.

Time to improvise.

I took a deep breath and steadied my shaking hands, then envisioned what I wanted to do. Mae’s presence was strong as she prepared to guide my actions with pinpoint accuracy.

All at once, I released my claws and leapt off the ledge with a twist. I turned mid-air and fired the grappling line back toward the window with a prayer to Jigu. The hook hit with a thud and pulled us back into the stone building with a crunch.

I winced as another leg jammed into the body housing. The limb was barely responsive, and leaking munje.

“Twenty five percent,” Mae reminded me again and I growled.

I let the line out and sighed relief as I touched down on solid ground. I released the hook and reeled it in so fast, the force of it locking in place bunted us several meters down the street. My gold munje leaked out in a noticeable trail as I skittered away from the building.

‘Mae, mobilize the en reserve and try to patch that up, would you?’ I asked as I galloped through the shadows along the bay.

“Not sure there’s enough, but I’ll try,” she said with again, much less confidence than I wanted to hear. Just because the odds were bad didn’t mean we couldn’t get lucky.

But I’d been down on my luck most of my life, so I probably shouldn’t bank on a miracle—which was likely what we needed at this point.

I slowed to a limping trot to prevent the jammed leg from bouncing around while Mae was trying to fix it. Slowly, the golden stream faded to a trickle, and then stopped.

“Got it, but bad news; ten percent left. We can’t make it back on that.”

I needed to get creative again, and quick.

I stopped, allowing my munje use to drop to insignificant levels as I scanned my surroundings. The bay wasn’t far off… what if I could drift closer to home?

An early morning passenger boat with bleary-eyed outer-city workers putted by and I grinned.

“Praise Jigu, she heard me,” I whispered and got moving.

The old tugboat turned passenger car was loud enough I could feel the vibrations from the road, and knew the sound of my grappling hook would go unnoticed. I got up to a gallop and jumped, doing the same maneuver as with the window. I looked over my shoulder and took aim, then fired the hook at the engine compartment of the ship.

The hook hit with a plink and latched onto the metal of the exhaust valve. The boat dragged me along and I felt my legs scraping the stone boardwalk. This was too loud, it wouldn’t work.

I kept up and awkward backwards run as I looked around for something, anything else that could help—

A loading dolly! The fisherman had to transport huge amounts of iced fish up and down the boardwalk to the market, and these little portable rolling devices was how. And there was one within claw clamping distance in just a few meters.

I kept up the backwards cantor and lined myself up to snatch the dolly.

“Six percent.” Mae’s warning was notwell timed, but I breathed down my nerves and sucked in a refreshing breath. I could do this. I’d done way crazier things before.

My heart pounded in my chest like a stampede of angry metalmaw boars. The dolly came within reach and I snapped my claw against the metal frame. I yanked it under me, wrapping my operational legs around the edges of the metal.

I let out a deep breath and my shoulders fell away from my ears. I released the death grip on my pants and shut down most of Tuko’s functions. I kept a small amount of visual data running and one claw to allow me to move around obstacles in our way.

“Your luck right now astoundsme.” Mae said with disbelief.

‘Hey, it wasn’t all luck. I had to do some thinking, too.’I thought with a cocky smirk. I knew it was mostly luck, but I liked thinking I had outsmarted the horrible odds.

The boat pulled us along and when I saw the end of the docks, I released the grappling hook. I used two limbs to roll us through the streets on minimal power. I was grateful Bastion was slightly down-hill.

I dumped the dolly on the other side of the street and skittered into the hole in the wall just as Tuko’s ma ran dry. I opened my eyes, a huge grin burning on my cheeks.

“I am a legend,” I whispered and my breath crystalized on the air.

“Oh, get over yourself,” Mae said with playful sarcasm. Her face appeared in my vision for a flash, rolling her eyes at me. My grin widened—something I didn’t think was possible—and I untied myself.

I scaled down the tree with ease and met Tuko at the wall, filling his reservoir just enough to get him back into Woong-ji’s office. The sky was shifting from midnight navy to the pre-dawn hues of orange and pink.

I hadn’t slept nearly enough, but we’d gained valuable insight. The insignia on the boxes, and the location of the signal broadcast. I walked to the area of the glade where meditation would take place to find Ko-nah was already there, legs crossed and eyes closed. I swallowed to quell my nerves and pressed on.

“You weren’t in your bed when I got up.” he said without opening his eyes as I approached.

“I was taking a walk,” I said nonchalantly, though my heart was racing.

“For two hours?” he fired back immediately.

“Yes, for two hours.”

He hummed in acknowledgement with a tone that said, “I know you’re lying.”

I plopped down next to him, heat swelling in my cheeks. So, he’d woken up when I left. How had he faked being asleep so well Mae hadn’t notice? More importantly, how many times had he seen me leave, and watched where I’d gone?

The others joined us silently as the morning went on. I couldn’t keep my focus on meditation, so I cycled what remaining energy I had into zo. Breakfast came and went without being able to update Hana, Cho, or Yuri on the early morning success. Though it wasn’t the signal location, I felt we’d gathered relevant information and made significant progress.

Li Alchemy was first, and today, Sung-ki had a rather cheerful expression. A sense of unease spread through my body as I looked at his unnatural grin. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt as though I’d done something wrong. Sung-ki shouldn’t have any knowledge of my wrongdoing, if it could be called that.

When the final gong rang, Sung-ki snapped the door to the hall shut. “We will be experimenting with extracts today. The first student to destroy their vial, by any means, fails my class.”

I grimaced and saw Hana, Cho, and Yuri exchange worried glances at the front of the class. Ko-nah didn’t look concerned in the slightest. I couldn’t afford to fail, and with li being my absolute worst munje, I knew I had to treat carefully.

Sung-ki picked up a tray to show off seven slender tubes, their exteriors reflective and corks secured. There was an eighth, empty vial that was clear. “You will be given seven extracts in unmarked vials. When mixed, each produce different results. There are three hundred and forty-three different combinations, and a third of them will destroy your vial. Timing matters. Speed of mixing matters. Method of mixing matters. I hope you’ve paid close attention these past six weeks.”