Page 6 of Roverpowered 6

He fixed Wanda with an odd stare; one she wasn’t really sure how to parse. Subtle expressions were just too intricate, too many ways a wrinkling around the eye or a shifting of the smile could be taken.

“This Garumph of yours must have been an excellent teacher.”

“In the weeks we traveled, I never once managed to stump him with a single plant we saw. He knew all of them. The names, the uses, the preparation methods, the quirks to watch out for.” A smile crept onto Wanda’s face as she recalled her teacher scoffing at her latest test, only to instantly rattle off every relevant piece of information about the mystery plant.

At the end of each explanation, he’d demand she try and bring him a tough one next time.

“It’s funny, what sounds so charming from your teacher is insufferable when my grandfather takes us out into the family gardens and does the same. I suppose that’s the difference between instruction and showing off.” Lenar seemed to shake himself out of his own recollection. “But listen to me still going on. You mentioned leaving your village earlier, what prompted the sudden depart⁠—”

“Attention, all passengers, this is Captain Sharshaw. The occorites have currently retreated. However, we are unsure if they will return. Wizards of all phases, please retrieve your familiars and report to the Main Deck. Those without magic, please remain secured in case of turbulence.”

The words had barely finished by the time Wanda was at the door, barely stopping herself from dashing to Wumble’s side before realizing she’d be leaving Lenar on his own. She turned back, only to find him waving her on. “Go ahead. I want to get to Karlisle as quickly as possible, and I know you feel the same. We’ll catch up to you on the Main Deck.”

Part of Wanda wondered if she should still hang back to Lenar’s pace, but the rest of her was already out the door and dashing down the halls, eager to ensure that Wumble was still safe and sound.

EIGHT

Distant echoes of the cannon shot rumbled across a cold, seemingly empty mountain. Yet that mana-singed soundwave was enough to rouse what had moments before appeared to be nothing more than wrecks of crashed ships. Dozens of occorites were pulled out of a hibernating state that conserved energy, called by the one lure that could rouse them.

Nourishment.

They lifted off from the mountain, one by one at first, then in great sweeping flocks. Fallen bearplanes and bearships alike rose one after another, until the true threat of the mountain began to move.

When it was a bearship, the monstrously huge vessel demanded multiple mana batteries and no less than a dozen pilots on staff, with five more on reserve. The grand bearship compared to standard bearships as they did to a bearplane: it was a massive upgrade in size.

The final few smaller occorites got into the air before the grand bearship took flight, causing the mountain to rumble from the force of its takeoff. Smaller occorites flew ahead, quicker than their large counterparts, yet also weaker. They would seek the lesser nourishment, picking off all that was available before the true bearships arrived.

At varying speeds, the flock flew toward the source of the sound, a lone bearship hurrying through the sky.

Fast as Wanda was, her pace slowed to a sudden crawl when she reached Deck Four, where the familiar recreation area was located. Other wizards had been closer, allowing them to arrive and line up first. Despite her eagerness, Wanda wasn’t about to start pushing other people out of the way. All of these wizards no doubt wanted to lay eyes on their familiars just as badly as she did.

Thankfully, the line moved swiftly, as the bearship’s crew did an excellent job of stewarding each wizard into the recreation area, locating their familiar, then guiding them out a separate door serving as the exit. While it wasn’t as quick as she’d have liked, soon Wanda was stepping through the facility doors.

Before the attendant could even ask her for any details, a familiar orange and white blur darted over, leaping into Wanda’s arms. She pulled him close and hugged him as tightly as she dared, given her current strength. Wanda moved along quickly, not wanting to hold up the line, Wumble firmly clutched in her arms the entire way. He made no effort to break free, nuzzling her cheek then giving it a few licks for good measure.

“I missed you, too.”

Wanda followed the line of wizards leaving, all of whom were being directed up the stairs toward the Main Deck, just as Captain Sharshaw had ordered. It was a long slog, and when they finally broke into the fresh air, she was momentarily dazzled by the bright blue sky. The transition from cramped halls to endless horizon was still startling even after several days of travel.

Still keeping Wumble clutched closely, Wanda made her way around the Main Deck searching for the rest of her team. If they were still on Deck Five using the training facilities when the alarm went off, then Yorian and Parriel would have a longer trek down to get their familiars, but Escador wouldn’t have needed the detour. Though there was every chance he’d gone along with the other two rather than separate.

Much as she might have liked to use her sense of smell to hunt them down, there were far too many scents on deck with all the wizards and familiars milling around. Wumble might be able to sort through that much musk, but Wanda hadn’t managed such a level of precision yet.

Lacking any other direction, Wanda made her way toward sounds of shouting as she came closer to the bow. There was an unfortunate tendency for anyone from Livolus to start yelling whenever they encountered Yorian, so she thought it might be a clue about her friend’s location.

Instead, Wanda found herself stumbling upon two people in some sort of argument, though whatever the subject of disagreement was had been lost in a scrum of interruptions and insults. One was a man with a parrot perched on his shoulder, clad in dull olive robes that were a poor match for the brilliant emerald of his familiar’s feathers. Clutched in his hand was a bottled potion, what Wanda assumed to be a healing potion, though the hue was a bit more muted than she would have expected.

The other person shouting was a muscular woman clad in a gray pilot’s uniform. Wanda almost thought the angry pilot had some sort of scarlet decoration running down the length of her left sleeve, before recognizing that particular shade of red for what it was. An injury, and a serious one to boot, especially given how the limb hung limply even as her right arm gesticulated wildly.

As soon as Wanda realized the pilot was injured, she bent over and set Wumble down before pretending to dig into the lefthand pocket of her cloak. Tapping the portalable that lived on her wrist, Wanda produced one of the potions she’d stockpiled during earlier brewing efforts. Garumph had always insisted that potions were meant to be used, but that didn’t mean an alchemist shouldn’t keep a stock on hand for emergencies.

There was a difference between hoarding and being prepared.

Pulling out the potion, Wanda ran over to the still shouting pilot, grabbing hold of her arm and finding herself entirely unprepared when that furious gaze swung her way, stunning Wanda into near silence.

Shy as Wanda might be, her instincts as an alchemist won out. Fighting against her own desire to silently flee, Wanda shoved the potion forward, practically into the pilot’s face. “For your arm.”

Those angry eyes warped into confusion, then understanding, and finally gratitude as she accepted the potion. “Thanks, kid.” Then the stopper was pulled and the potion guzzled, the pilot’s arm mending within the first sips.