The Depth of Perception

Border Crossing

The trek from Southpass to the border was uneventful, as Zane had told them it would be. The Crown wouldn't make a move on the Viducian side of the border, he had assured them. It was unfamiliar territory, beyond their sovereignty, and sending anything other than a few bodies would risk a major political incident.

This meant they would have to cross the most highly guarded border outside of the Mardoken capital before they could even engage in any sort of conflict with the Crown's forces, who intel suggested were camped just outside the Wildwood, in the foothills of the mountains.

It also meant they would be in the country where the Carmine Ledger had a much wider influence, though. And Zane believed the border crossing would be easier than usual because the Crown would want them to pass unperturbed into their clutches.

In theory, it was a difficult situation, but doable. In practice, Zane would remind them at every opportunity, things always went wrong. They would need to think on their toes. One last pep talk was all there was time for before they reached the border and put their plan into motion.

× × ×

"Are ya alright back dere? Not much longer til ya can come out," Wrench whispered. She was riding in the front of a wagon with Frederick, while their passengers hid in the back under thick canvas sheets with preserved meats piled on top.

Frederick's day job as a merchant had been the perfect cover for their crossing, and the border guards hadn't looked twice once the relevant contracts had been produced. In fact, they hadn't encountered any resistance at all even as they approached the forest. The closer they got to freedom, however, the more nervous Wrench seemed, the head of her wrench clinking on the floor in rhythm with her tapping foot.

As the hills gave way completely to flat ground and the forest dominated the skyline, Wrench noticed their horses nickering and fighting against their blinds, straining their necks toward some unseen threat. Her wrench clinked one last time as she grabbed it from her feet, the tapping having now ceased.

"Shades," she informed Frederick, her typical bright smile gone grim, memories of their last encounter resurfacing.

Frederick nodded, and brought his wagon to a stop. He dropped from his perch with a grunt and unhitched his horses, sending them running toward the forest with a slap on their flanks. He then pulled a pair of thick leather gloves with inlaid brass fittings over fists the size of hams and sat beside Wrench again.

"Ya hit dem hard enough and dey'll feel it," Wrench explained. "But not for long. We just gotta keep dem away from Ori, d'ough."

Frederick nodded again.

"Are ya ready back dere? I can see dem comin'," Wrench said, her eye on two wisps of black powder skimming along the grass toward them.

When the Shades reached the vicinity of the wagon, Wrench stood atop the wagon and leapt at them, swinging her wrench overhead into one just as her boots crashed into the other.

The Shades flowed around her blows like smoke past a waving hand, and the first solidified into human form crouching just underneath the wagon. With a cacophony of creaks and groans, the wagon was lifted onto its side, upsetting its contents.

As meats tumbled from their places, the canvas sheets beneath them came to life. Throwing their cover from on top of them, James and Kelly jumped from the wagon.

"Are ya alright?" Wrench grunted, already locked in battle with the other Shade.

"I will be when I take that thing's head off," Kelly shouted, pulling a pair of climbing axes from clips on her leg.