Chapter 35.4: Unlocking Courage

Shadows moved across them all as they wound in and out of thickets that lined the road, and before long, they were drenched in the shade of buttes that seemed to define the Metrica landscape. It was unclear if they’d descended into a gorge or if cliffs had simply risen up out of the flat earth around them, but it was enough to momentarily jar Penny out of her engineer’s myopia. This region of the world was so strange, and it only got stranger the farther they went.

With a sour huff, Penny stuffed the discomfort aside and set her mind back to the second generator. It was all just rocks and plants, like anywhere else.

Since his return that morning, Wepp had estimated the power outputs necessary for essence-processing and field-projection, and he’d concluded that the two components could indeed be powered off the same unit, provided they leveraged separate power crystals. It was beyond Penny why the asura felt it necessary to use these power crystals for absolutely everything, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. It needed doing. For several hours, her mind and hands worked furiously at different angles of the same problems: one concocting solutions and the other executing them as she brought the disparate pieces together.

One of the biggest challenges of the day wasn’t the work at all, though; it was just how small their workspace was. Kneeling put Penny at a proper height for their crated workbench, but it also meant she took up twice as much floor-space, with her legs sticking out behind her. More than once, Wepp absentmindedly tripped over her on his way to the other side of the table. By afternoon, he’d managed on three separate occasions to fall into Jinkke’s calculations, nearly knock the core free of its generator, and lose several pages of the Zinn transcriptions into the road. Somehow the blame always fell to Penny, though, and the ensuing squabbles were potent, if short-lived. None of them were interested in derailing their work long enough to really get into it.

The only person who seemed truly distracted for long was Jinkke, but it had nothing to do with the spats between Penny and Wepp. Periodically, her attention would just drift back to her brother and settle there, leaving whatever papers or device she held as far from her mind as could be. Of course, Minkus only sat at the back of wagon, bowed forward over his own crossed legs and oblivious to anything they were doing behind him, even when that anything was watching him. Penny tried not to notice it, but she only became more aware of Jinkke as the day wore on.

Jinkke was doing it again now, and Penny needed her attention. She snapped a finger at the younger of the siblings for the third time. “Hey!” 

With all the staring, Jinkke had apparently fallen blind and deaf. All Penny wanted to know was what size coupling she’d need for the power line to the processor. It should have been easy.

“Are you even listening to me?” she demanded.

“I— yes— I heard. Power coupling.” Jinkke snapped back into work-mode and prattled off the specifications, but her eyes never left the back of Minkus’ head.

Penny listened, taking a mental note of what she’d need to do, but her eyes followed Jinkke’s gaze. Minkus had been at his meditation thing for a long time, but which of them wasn’t dead-set on what they had in mind?

Penny huffed, pushing her focus back to the conduit still in her hand. She was homeless, with no source of income, carted off to some random corner of the world, facing death or insanity, and she had a job to do if there was to be any retribution. She didn’t have room for someone’s family drama in all that. She just didn’t.

Growling to herself, she pressed harder into her work, but from the corner of her downturned eyes, she kept flicking glances at Minkus, then Jinkke, and then Minkus again. Her eyes kept darting between the siblings, to the point that she wasn’t accomplishing anything beyond giving herself a headache.

“You don’t need to worry about him.” Penny sighed, refusing to look up. She’d addressed the issue verbally. That should be enough.

“Excuse me?” Jinkke asked.

Why Penny had to open her dumb mouth, she didn’t know, but she was already doing it again. “I said you don’t need to worry about him. He just thinks this is how he can help us. That’s all. He’s not throwing rocks now, but I think he’s still trying to do that new magic thing of his. Leave him be, and he’ll be fine.”

“New magic thing?” Jinkke asked. It sounded like she was clarifying the half-language of a toddler. “What new magic thing?”

Still kneeling, Penny squared her shoulders to the asura. She really did suddenly feel like a child in that posture. “Don’t you get like that with me. I’m just telling you what’s going on. He’s trying to get a handle on that body-shield thing he did in the Shiverpeaks, with that ice wurm.” Jinkke thought for just a second before the light of recognition washed over her, and Penny continued. “I told him he doesn’t need to worry about us, but you know the big dope. He’s doing it anyway.”

“He isn’t a dope,” Jinkke complained, looking back at Minkus, this time more inspecting than concerned. “You of all people should know his cognitive limitations have little bearing on—”

“Yes. Gods. I know.” Penny waved her arms to stop the little lecturer. “I’m not talking about his— Look, obviously he hasn’t told you what he’s doing, so I did. He’s a stubborn pain in the ass when he wants to be, and he wants to be right now. But what problem is it to us. It makes the guy feel useful, and hell, it might prove to be a handy trick if he gets it down.”

“Logically, yes.” Jinkke’s gaze fell to her feet. She seemed to follow the path of a pair of bolts that bounced across the bed to the rhythm of the wheels. “I just wish he would have expressed that to me.”

Penny’s fingers took to drumming on the power generator in her hand, something she only recognized after it had begun. All this interpersonal, familial stuff—well, she just wasn’t built for it, so why in Torment was she stuck in the middle of it? She glanced back and forth between them, wishing she could go back to the strictly mechanical problems she’d been working at all day.

Before she’d clearly thought about saying anything, Penny’s mouth opened and words fell out: “Would you really have let him—”

Minkus’ head shot up before she could finish. “I have it. I have it!”

Wepp yipped in surprise, and both Penny and Jinkke jumped back a step, each bumping into a corner of the work table. The contents rattled and clanked to the floorboards, but Minkus paid it no mind, still busy scrabbling around the back of the wagon on hands and knees.

It seemed to even wake up the driver. “Is everything copacetic back there?

“Yes, the situation is satisfactory,” Wepp reassured him. “We were simply startled by our associate. That is all.”

“Gods,” Penny growled, catching her breath.

“No, that probably won’t work,” Minkus muttered again, going right on in his search for whatever he was after. “I need something bigger, something a little more dangerous.”

He stopped scuttling about and turned his attention off the side of the wagon, to the rocky wall of earth that rose up beside them on the western edge of the road. Crying, “Yes, that’s it!” he jumped off the back of the wagon and into its trail of dust.

Penny gawked. “What in Grenth’s green ass is he doing?”

Jinkke, of course, heard nothing Penny or anyone else said. She’d been caught by one word only. “Dangerous?” she barked.

Dropping her work where she stood, she bounded across the bed of the wagon and leapt off after him. “What in the Alchemy are you talking about, Big Brother?” she yelled, landing much less gracefully than her brother.

“Stop the wagon!” Penny yelled back at the driver.

“But I thought you lot said the situation was—”

“Would you just stop the gods-damned wagon?!”

The driver obeyed, tugging the reins on the golem. Leaving Wepp behind, Penny jumped off the edge of the tailgate as well and ran back to the siblings, one of whom was still regaining her footing while the other tugged vehemently at a stone protruding from the cliff face.

“What in Melandru’s Realm are the two of you doing?” Penny demanded. “You both just jumped off a moving wagon!”

Minkus jerked the rock free of its home in the wall of earth. Dirt and small rubble rolled down the face and onto him, but he paid it no mind, looking intently at what he held. It was as ordinary of a rock as Penny had ever seen, though it was easily as large as her head.

“Yes, this will work,” Minkus muttered. Beaming, he finally looked up at Penny and his sister, who were now standing side by side. He extended the stone at them. “Jinkke, could you please throw this at me?”

Jinkke stopped brushing the road rubble out of her hair. She stammered. “Throw that at— What? No. Smoke and sparks, no! I’m not hurtling that or any other projectile at you for any reason whatsoever— in fact, put it down, Big Brother. Why would you even request such a ludicrous thing?”

“It’s courage,” he declared excitedly. 

Penny exchanged a questioning glance. Neither of them were following this one.

“No, Biggie,” Penny groaned. “That’s stupidity.”

Balancing the stone in one hand, he scratched at his ear with his other. Even still, he looked as excited as he did unsure. “No, that’s not what I mean. It takes courage, or something a lot like it, I think— to create the effect, I mean. It’s— well, it’s that feeling when someone or something is in danger, and you just have to do something about it, whatever it might cost. But, I think it also has to really cost something— there has to be a risk. That’s why it wasn’t working before— I think.” His speech was quick, like his sister’s tended to be, but it wasn’t nearly as collected. Still, Penny thought she had an idea of what he was getting at.

Jinkke, however, didn’t. “Big Brother,” she said, blinking, “what are you suggesting?”

Penny groaned, pushing a hand through her hair as she assessed the determined gleam in Minkus’ eyes and the frightened expression of Jinkke’s. She had half a mind to walk away from the situation entirely. After all, she knew what Minkus was talking about—more or less, anyway—and she wasn’t looking forward to the little, blond genius’ response whenshe had it explained. But, gods, if Penny didn’t do something, who knew how long it would be before she could get the two of them back on that wagon and moving again.

“You mean your shield thing, don’t you?” Penny asked. She bit her tongue to keep it from saying something it really wanted to. “You think it only happens when you risk getting hurt, so you want us to throw a boulder at you? Is that it?”

Wepp suddenly chimed in from the wagon. “Technically speaking, that’s not large enough to be classified as a boulder.”

Gritting her teeth, Penny raked hands through her hair again. Every time she thought these asura were growing on her, one of them spoke.

Before she could snap on him, though, Minkus got his response out. “Yes, my shield thing. And yes, that’s right. I think I know how to channel it now: focus on protecting someone and face real danger—at least a little bit. If I can just find the right focus, I can practice that more with or without the rocks.” He nearly leapt the several paces toward them and slid the stone off into his sister’s hands. Her hands dropped noticeably under the weight of it. “I just need to see that it works the first time,” he said, falling back a step again.

Jinkke’s hands shot apart, and the rock fell through them, hitting the ground with an audible thud. “I’m not throwing this at you, Big Brother. Its mass is enough to split your skull.”

Crossing her arms, Penny snickered. “Assuming you could do it with those little arms.”

Jinkke only glared fiercely at her, then at Minkus. 

“Please, Jinkke? It won’t hurt, I promise. It won’t even touch me—well, I don’t think so. I mean, it could hurt me. That is the point, I suppose.” He closed his eyes, scrunching his face in something that looked half like focus and half like constipation. “But,” he went on, eyes still closed, “if I can open myself, I think I can form the barrier at just the right moment. I just have to concentrate on that moment with the wurm.”

“Minkus,” Jinkke insisted, waving her hands down at the stone, “I am not throwing this or anything else at you. Let’s just reboard the wagon and carry on. I’m sure we can find an alternative defense in place of this particular magical ability.” She turned back toward the wagon with a shiver, not even looking back. “We have enough else to test before we get there, and— no, I’m just not doing it.”

Penny’s eyes drifted to the stone still sitting in the road and then to Minkus. His hand lifted toward Jinkke, but he reeled it back in, just watching his sister walk away instead.

Penny glared down at the rock now. Yeah, she’d made up her mind, but she was going to get an earful for it. “You sure about this, Biggie?”

Minkus scratched his head, looking up at her as if just recognizing she was there. “Um, yes— yes, I think so. Are you going to—” Penny nodded. “Well, just— maybe don’t aim for my head.”

She raised an eyebrow but nodded all the same, hefting the large stone to her chest in both hands. Gods, the thing really was heavy. She’d at least try not to hit him in the head, but she had a feeling the thing was going to fly whoever it wanted.

“You’re really sure?” she asked again. “This thing isn’t small.”

Minkus nodded, his face alight with confidence. “Trust me. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

Penny sighed. “OK. You’re the wizard.”

Gripping the gritty surface of the stone while Minkus prepared himself, Penny glanced back over her shoulder to find Jinkke standing still some feet shy of the wagon. The petite asura had turned back to face them again, and she was staring daggers at Penny. Only her quivering eye gave away the anxiety she was working to keep under control. Still, she held her place, not coming back to assert herself over either of them. She held fists at her side, shoulders tight.

Penny set her attention back on Minkus, waiting for whatever signal he planned on giving her—she thought she was waiting for a signal anyway. That constipated look of focus drew tighter across his face again, and Penny frowned. It hardly looked like any type of peace she’d ever seen.

“Alright. Now,” he murmured.

Penny glanced again at Jinkke, who’d closed her eyes. With an uncertain shrug, Penny pivoted onto her back heel, eyed her trajectory, and threw her weight into the stone, pitching it forward with both arms. She and Minkus both watched it arch through the empty space between them.

With a sharp crack, it hit Minkus between his chest and shoulder and split in two, one piece bouncing a foot back in Penny’s direction and the other ricocheting into the side of the butte. There was a subtle blue gleam that sparked where it struck and rippled around Minkus’ form in a faint, pearly sheen that dissipated into the road behind him.

Penny felt her mouth pop open, and Minkus gawked down at himself. Behind Penny, Jinkke had thrown her hands over her mouth.

“Well, what do you know?” Penny mused. “it worked.”

Jinkke rushed past her, bounding double-distance with each step, and stopped just inches from her brother. She leaned forward, inspecting the point of impact before ducking to survey the fractured pieces of rock. “Smoke and sparks,” she breathed, rising back to full height and staring into Minkus’ eyes. “You really did it, Big Brother.” The wonder in her voice and posture faded as she eyed her brother in a new way. She seemed to question him, probing him for some unseen information, though no words passed between them. Neither of them said anything, but both their faces were worried. Penny had no idea what was going on.

The two eventually parted, and they all climbed back into the wagon.

Penny found herself smiling. They were still in the shitter, but it was relieving that something—pretty much anything—had gone their way. “So what are you going to do now that you got it?” she asked him.

Settling back down into his cross-legged seat, Minkus paused, tugging at his ear. “Got it?” he replied uncomfortably. “Penny, that was only the beginning. I know the— the feeling now, but I can’t control it, and I can’t share it yet. I need to learn to do that.”

Penny shook her head at the curious, little man. He was more tenacious than she’d given him credit for just a season ago, but damn if he wasn’t curious. She turned back to the work table. “Whatever you say, Biggie. Whatever you say.”