Birthright (The Technomage Archive, Book 1) - Complete Novel

Chapter Fifteen

Ceril and his team found shelter well before the storm came, but luckily for them, it turned out that the rain had little in common with the acidic tree sap that had eaten through Harlo's test tube. The cave they found was a bit cramped for five people with travel gear, but it kept them dry. Chuckie even managed to Conjure a decent enough fire to keep the chill from the wind out of the cave.

Ceril had to admit that Chuckie had talent, even if he was kind of an insubordinate jerk. Making a fire was easy. Conjuring a fire was not.

Technomage nanites did not naturally produce heat. Whenever they created excess energy, the surrounding nanites absorbed that energy so that nothing went to waste and so the nanites had a perpetual power source. Because of this design, it took intense concentration from a Charon to be able to condense and control nanites well enough to produce even a minimal amount of heat. It went against the tiny machines' base design. That's why a Flameblade's aura was completely aesthetic unless the Charon was in total control. Chuckie was able to keep the fire going for the duration of the storm. Ceril wondered what emotion he could have channeled that long to fuel the Conjuring. Maybe there was more to Chuckie than was on the surface.

Even though Chuckie seemed a bit tired afterward and needed to rest—that Conjuring had obviously taken a lot out of him—Ceril knew he was a tough kid and would pull himself together quickly enough.

"What next, Ternia?" Saryn asked. "It's been half an hour or so since I saw lightning."

"We go looking for ways back to Erlon."

"Vague," she said.

"It's about all I have right now. I guess we should try to find signs of some sort of civilization if there is any. Let's hope there is. Because if not, we're in for one hell of a trip if we try to find some kind of Instance connection on our own. I can only assume that the locals would have legends or stories of some kind that can lead us in a general direction."

"Yeah," said Saryn, "but where do you propose we find these locals?"

"We walk for a while. Pick a direction," Ceril said.

"Excuse me?"

"Pick a direction. Any of them is as good as any other." Ceril got up and walked toward the mouth of the cave. He had to step over the pile of his team's supply bags, and he was careful not to trip since Chuckie's Conjured fire no longer provided enough light to see by. He wasn't careful enough, though—his foot caught in one of the straps, and he went sprawling.

Chuckie laughed, too busy recuperating from the fire to bother checking if Ceril was okay. Swinton was the first to get to him and help him stand up.

"Sorry, boss," he said. "Think it was my bag that got you. Shouldn't have left it out like that. I'll be more careful next time. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ceril brushed himself off and led Swinton and Saryn to the mouth of the cave. "So...which direction?" he asked.

"You got me, boss," Swinton said. "All looks the same from here."

"He's right," Saryn chimed in. "It's either plains that way or mountains behind us. If my vote counts for anything, though, I say avoid the mountains. We don't know what kind of wildlife to expect, but if Harlo's acid tree is any indication, I'd rather take my chances with whatever is in the plains. That way, we can see it coming instead of getting maimed by some mountain-climbing Whateveritis."

"Point," Ceril said. He crooked his neck backward and shouted into the cave at Harlo and Chuckie. "You guys have any preference? Where we go next?"

Harlo shuffled forward, grabbing her pack to strap on as she joined the trio at the mouth of the cave. "Doesn't matter to me," she said. "I think Saryn's got a point, though. Not saying the plains critters will be any nicer, but I'm not really in the mood to have an alien Whatchamacallit jump off a mountain and eat me."