47. An Agricultural Approach


    By the time the Wayfarers came to the foot of the mountains, the storm had crescendoed to the absolute height of its fury. Churning currents of [Ossify] particles flew at Serac hard and fast, forcing her off Ash’s battlement and into the safety of its cabin.


    Soon, however, she was forced to dismiss Ash altogether, back into its adorable portable form. Visibility out of the slit was next to zero, and the living castle couldn’t navigate the mountains’ steepening slopes by its blind lonesome.


    Before progressing further on foot, the Wayfarers took a moment to go over the basics of Narakite mountaineering.


    “Only one of us at a time can wear [His Sister’s Keeper],” Zacko began by pointing out the obvious, “which means we’ll have to swap back and forth. From what I understand, it doesn’t negate [Ossify] build-up completely, but it should still buy us a lot more time than we’d have without it.”


    “But we still need to know what to do when the gauge does fill up,” Serac did her part by poking holes in the plan. “I don’t know about you, but I for one would hate to be stuck on the side of a mountain as a Bone Husk. Even if we eventually, you know, manage to die.”


    “It’ll be a slow and painful death, for sure,” Zacko said with a sage nod and an amicable smile. “The hope is that we’ll find shelter along the way. Worst comes to worst, we might be able to resummon Ash and hide indoors for a bit. Don’t know many (if any) Wayfarers who could claim a whole building as a Steed, so might as well put its perks to good use.”


    Serac couldn’t rightly argue with that, even though it didn’t feel great to consider Ash as ‘emergency shelter’. Then again, desperate times called for sensible measures.


    Up close, the mountains collectively called the ‘Bonespires’ made no secret of how they got their name. Each of its innumerable peaks pierced the sky as sheer steeples, with just the slightest bends to evoke the curvature of rib bones. The surfaces were buried by thick accretions of bone dust, yet there were enough fissures and fractures in places to reveal the onyx base underneath.


    The collection of ‘spires’ also acted as a kind of natural barrier. Their nearly vertical gradient brooked no realistic attempt at scaling the mountain faces—at least not without some specialized equipment. Luckily, the saddles where these natural palisades met also formed its own separate slope, one that was just barely gentle enough for a Rakshasa and a Manusya to feel and clamber their way up.


    Before doing just that, however…


    “Oh! I nearly forgot!”


    Serac sat down at the start of this false hill and meditated. A lotus flower bloomed, providing a pure-white ‘brazier’ to light the dust-laden fog. Pathsight then named this new Waystation, sensibly enough, as:


    [Foot of the Bonespires]


    The Wayfarers, newly reconstituted, began their ascent in earnest. With Zacko wearing [His Sister’s Keeper] around his neck, Serac was fully exposed to the elements. The [Ossify] gauge wasted no time to show up, along with an additional stack to her [Tribulation] bonus.


    The pair hurried along the slopes—or tried to, anyway. As if the terrain wasn’t challenging enough, the buffeting winds and pelting dust only added to the degree of difficulty. It was clear from the outset that this climb would test the Wayfarers’ physical attributes as much as their Pathsighted ones.


    Serac was the first to lose her ‘stamina’—the kind that couldn’t be represented by a green bar. Out of breath and lacking in strength, her steps slowed, causing her to nearly lose sight of Zacko, who continued ahead of her at a much brisker pace.


    “Wait!” she gasped, her voice muffled by her scarf. “Time out! Can we stop for a sec?”


    “What, already?” Zacko called back, incredulous. “We can’t just stop here. There’s nothing to shield us from the dust-storm.”


    “I just… I just need a breather,” Serac moaned, even as she did her utmost to avoid breathing in the surrounding air.


    “What happened to that ‘Rakshasa toughness’ you keep trumpeting?” Zacko made his annoyance plain, then spun in place, appearing to scan the slopes ahead. He pointed and said, “There! You see it? Let’s try to make it there at least, then we can see about giving you that breather.”


    Serac narrowed her eyes and just barely made out what Zacko pointed to. A halo of blue light was just visible amidst the overwhelming fog of Bone—almost like a lamppost lit with the same magic as Dashi’s lantern.


    “I see it,” Serac reported dubiously, “but… what even is that? How do we know it’s something to go to rather than avoid?”If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    “Not like there’s anything else to aim for,” Zacko gave the verbal version of a shrug. “Gotta be better than just charging on blind.”


    Serac could argue with that one, but chose not to. She was more enticed by the promise of a rest stop, which the mysterious blue light seemed as likely to provide as anything else in the vicinity. So, she forced her chuffing lungs to work overtime, following Zacko as he charged on ahead.


    Up close, the mystery object was revealed to be an… actual lamppost! Or close enough for Serac to call it such.


    It was an offshoot from the nearest spire. A thin strip of the compacted bone dust had ‘peeled off’ to form a hook-like projection, from the end of which hung a lantern that was just like the one in Dashi’s possession. This lantern cast its immediate surroundings in its pale-blue glow: an area more than large enough for two Wayfarers to squeeze in and dust themselves off.


    Literally. For the light was as conveniently magical as its appearance suggested. Serac’s [Ossify] bar went away almost as soon as she walked up to the lamppost, which allowed her to sigh in relief and see about that much-needed breather.


    She panted and wheezed like a sick dog, hands on knees. Zacko, on the other hand, wasn’t a hair out of sorts. He took his ‘breather’ by staring up and inspecting the lantern that hung above their head.


    “Why?” he asked softly, as if to himself.


    “I’m sorry, but I’m trying my best, alright?” Serac snapped, though she was more annoyed at herself.


    “No, I mean why is this here? This lamp.”


    “Oh, that.” Serac craned her neck, squinting, as she was directly underneath the lamp’s blue glare. “I dunno, maybe the Bone Lord put it here to help us.”


    Zacko gave her a look. “You’re not serious, are you? Why would he do that?”


    She shrugged. “You heard the Maidens. We know that the Bone Lord wanted to work with us—at least until we tried to put a stop to his child sacrifice. Maybe he still does… and this is his way of seeing if we’d be up for it.”


    “I agree with you, Wayfarer—at least partially,” Trippy cut in then, ever quick to give his two ? whenever the topic of the Realm Immortal came up. “I do believe this is the Bone Lord’s doing, but not necessarily with you specifically in mind. My theory is that this lamppost, as well as this mountain ‘path’ as a whole, are meant for all Wayfarers who dare approach the Realm Immortal—perhaps as a means to test their worthiness to receive a Mandate.”


    “See? Trippy agrees with me,” Serac informed Zacko (rather unhelpfully at that), then added after a moment’s consideration, “but I don’t agree with Trippy—at least not fully. I do think this is the Bone Lord’s twisted way of helping and testing Wayfarers, but I don’t think he really cares about this ‘Mandate’ at all. I think all he cares about is that ‘greater plan’ the Maidens kept harping on about. Whatever that might be.”


    Serac waited for her Special Guidance Protocol to put up another argument. Trippy didn’t say anything, even though Serac could sense a sort of unease that pushed against the edges of their shared consciousness. It was an almost physical sensation—one that manifested as a slight prick of pain just above her right ear.


    “Okay,” Zacko piped up again. If he was annoyed at all about being left out of a conversation that took place within arm’s reach of him, he didn’t show it. “Let’s just assume you’re both right—partially or fully, I don’t care. That means we should find more of these lamps along our route. Probably spaced in such a way that it’s possible for us to go from one lamp to another within the time it would take for [Ossify] to build up.”


    “I’d guess so,” Serac mused, frowning slightly, “but that can’t be all there is to it. Gotta be something here to make our lives diff—shh, did you hear that?”


    Serac perked up her pointed ears, trying to make out a noise that had hid itself amidst the raging dust-storm. A noise that was ethereal yet strangely rhythmic—and familiar.


    Chuh chuh chuh…


    Bhootas! Those transparent winged monkeys who couldn’t seem to help but give away their own positions, in one way or another. That certainly qualified as ‘something to make the Wayfarers’ lives difficult’. A challenge Serac herself had no qualms facing, but—


    She glanced at the Manusya beside her. Predictably enough, Zacko had gone stock-still, face rigid and visibly pale even in the dim lighting.


    Serac suppressed a sigh as she looked out into the fog and listened. The Bhootas continued to laugh, and she confirmed that there were at least a handful of them circling just beyond the lamplight’s pale-blue borders. They circled but kept their distance, evidently reluctant to come anywhere near the light.


    That gave Serac an idea.


    “You know,” she turned to her companion again, “that Trinket around your neck. The fog is thick enough here that the gemstone should give off a bit of that same blue light. Obviously not as strong as this lamp, but it might be enough to ward off the Bhootas. Do you… want to make a run for it? Until we get to the next lamp?”


    “No.”


    “Alright, sure. I’ll try to stick close, so maybe I’ll also be protected by the—wait, what did you say?”


    “I said no,” Zacko croaked in a trembling voice, even as a bit of color returned to his stricken face. He then added, somewhat more steadily, “We can take them. Why let a perfectly good source of Karma go to waste?”


    Serac gaped, starting to smile even in her disbelief. “Are you sure?”


    “Yes, I’m sure,” Zacko snapped, no doubt more annoyed at himself. “I’ve done a bit of soul-searching. And I figured… if I’m serious about getting over this ‘leveler’s block’ of mine, then I can’t be afraid of a little farming, can I?”


    Serac’s hint of a smile widened into a full-on grin. “No argument there, chief.”


    “It’s settled then,” Zacko said, then put on VISAGE, [Dreamer] side up. He then added in a perfectly steady voice—one that was muffled by the face of a laughing Buddha, “Had enough of a breather, princess? If you’re ready, let’s go farm us some ghosts.”