Laurel tilted her head back, letting the sun beat down on her skin as she relaxed. Maria and Kat’s even breaths a pleasant cadence as they lounged to either side. They hadn’t brought the right supplies for a day at the beach, but a break was necessary. The weeks of constant vigilance and stress were impacting the entire team. She was fine, this level of activity was nothing new for her. But the kids and soldiers were running the ragged edge. Even Kat and Maria, the most experienced officers in their little group were starting to fray. Laurel was well aware it was her fault. After the fight with other cultivators, Laurel had pushed them all to travel faster and keep the pace up. They hadn’t let up after the jungle either. As fascinating as Laurel had found Saralhasa’s domain, the rest of the group was jumping at every shadow afterwards. The Hashram Dunes had been less exciting but the spirit beasts that burrowed under the sand and burst out whenever they got too close had made the others even more twitchy. So Laurel had called for a rest day.

  They couldn’t have found a better place for a break. This southern leg of their journey took them across the Somorin Archipelago. It was their only option to fly across the southern ocean with reliable places to stop overnight for the pilots. Otherwise they would have to backtrack through Lanport, which given the unexpected competition from other cultivators, Laurel was loath to do. Now, while they were still in the uninhabited areas, it was a good place to stop. The island they had chosen was a tiny one. Big enough to support some trees and not much else. But the beach was wide enough for a landing spot for the planes, and there was a natural lagoon for all their relaxation needs.

  The younger members of their party were taking advantage of the crystal clear waters. The soldiers were engaged in some sort of game involving sitting on each other's shoulders and attempting to tackle the others into the water. Rebecca was swimming and communing with her new friend, who was perched on her back, like Rebecca was his own personal boat. Laurel was quietly hopeful about that situation. Soulbound companions weren’t common, but cultivators that had one took great joy in the experience. On the other side of the lagoon, Leander was standing stock still in waist-deep water near some rock formations. Time had eroded them into a series of nooks and crannies that offered shade and shelter from the unrelenting sun. The boy had some interesting ideas about what a cultivator should be able to do. Today, he had decided to catch fish with his bare hands. It wasn’t clear if Martin had mentioned something, or if the idea came from the penny novels sold back in Merista that the boy had devoured after learning to read. Or maybe Leander’s imagination was running wild after a lifetime of staying quiet. Whatever it was, he continued to come up with “training exercises” when they stopped in the evenings along with keeping the plants alive on their journey. Laurel felt he was approaching an idea of protecting the sect to anchor his cultivation. Too much interference at this stage would be terrible for him, so the plants would have to be enough.

  “Any chance you have some rum and fruit juice in that tattoo of yours?” Maria was still fully reclined on her blanket, with one arm thrown over her eyes to block the sun. The unflappable captain had responded with glee when Laurel suggested a beach day. Somehow she’d had the foresight to pack swimwear while the rest were improvising.

  “No rum, I have some wine though.” Laurel brought out a few glasses and a bottle of a crisp white wine from a vineyard that had been destroyed a thousand years before. She poured glasses for all three of them, Kat having sat up from her nap to join them. They clinked the glasses together and sipped, watching the antics of the rest of their team.

  “How do you all think we should handle the next few island jumps? The rest of the chain is a lot more populated.” Kat’s geography knowledge had helped them more than once on their journey, thus far, and Laurel was inclined to trust her new friend’s judgment.

  “I think we should stop in a larger city if we can find one. I want to see if we can find any local cultivators and if they’re working for the same group as the last set. It will be good for the kids too, to get some experience with people outside of Verilia. Those that aren’t trying to kill them, that is.”

  “I’m in,” Maria said. “If we stop off in Jaranda on the big island, I have instructions on how to find one of the local Meristan contacts. We can send some of the intel we have so far back home.”

  Kat indicated her agreement and the conversation moved onto pleasanter topics. Laurel was fascinated by the mortal upbringings they’d had. Kat was from the countryside around Lanport, where her parents owned a general goods store. Maria was a northern girl, from the mountains, where she and her sisters had grown up helping out the family sheep farm. They had both joined up with the army for the university tuition, and stayed in because they enjoyed the lifestyle. As officers in niche roles like special forces and the relatively new air division, they’d traveled around Merista and its neighbors for some of the more interesting missions available.

  In turn, they were entertained by her own stories. Fighting in tournaments, rescuing mortals from natural disasters, even the everyday quirks of living in a sect were like stories out of fiction to the army officers. Laurel was in the middle of a rendition of her and her friends stealing a bottle of wine from the sect stores when Rebecca came and flopped down on her own blanket.

  “Isn’t he great?!” She held up her lemur, who looked like a dripping cat after their dip.

  “Does he have a name yet?” Maria had been surprising all of them with how interested she was in their new team member. Laurel thought it made sense after hearing she had dogs and cats in the house growing up.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “I think Flint. A good name for my gray boy.” She announced the name while nuzzling the lemur, wet fur and all.

  A loud splashing dragged their attention away from Flint and out into the lagoon. Leander was now submerged, with only a hand held above the water, clutching a wriggling fish. He got his feet back under him and stood, lifting the fish in victory. A cheer went up from the rest of the soldiers as he tried hanging on while it thrashed to escape.

  ********

  The city was loud, but not Meristan-loud and not jungle-loud either. Though there were cawing birds and the ever-present hum of insects in the background still. The people themselves were shouting everywhere. Maybe it sounded strange because he couldn’t understand most of it. Laurel could learn languages from reading people’s minds but she said it was going to be a long time before he could do the same. Leander let the sounds wash over him while sticking close to the group. Following Laurel’s lead, he kept his shoulders back, eyes looking around. Cultivators walked with confidence. A few people stopped and stared as they walked through the crowded market. Or at least they stared at where Flint was perched across Rebecca’s shoulder. Flint would be part of the sect too, so Leander made sure to note anyone who watched him for too long.

  They came to a tavern on one end of a crowded market. It was basically the same as the Rifle and Crown, where they had celebrated the initial cultivating breakthroughs in the sect. Leander was pretty sure all taverns were basically the same but the soldiers had strong opinions on the differences. Now that they had Esther, they didn’t celebrate there anymore, but he had enjoyed it. Most taverns wouldn’t let street kids in, or any kids that were too young, so it had been his first time. Once they had a table in the back corner, he gestured around at the room and looked at Laurel. That would have to be enough, Major Kat told him it would be a bad idea for him to use the stone in public when they left her outside the city with the planes and some of the other pilots.

  “Hmm?” Laurel watched him but still seemed confused.

  He gestured around the tavern again, then pulled out the pocket-sized world map Annette had given him and pointed to the capital.

  “Oh. Yeah, taverns are pretty much the same everywhere. Different drinks, new food, varying levels of comfort, but always the same idea.” Leander nodded to himself, Laurel usually knew what he meant.

  He went back to observing the other people. Street kids were good at telling the people rich enough to be dangerous from those with enough to be comfortable but not scary. He saw more of the second type and none of the first. It was in the clothes. Anything too noticeable said someone wasn’t afraid of anything. The people at the bar had the same bright colors and loose fits he’d seen in the market, but nothing that screamed “expensive - don’t touch”. There were a smattering of people in laborer clothes playing some sort of card game on another table, but they were happy-loud and not angry-loud.

  A young man, maybe a few years older and a few handspans taller than him showed up at their table, wearing an apron. Captain Varska said something to him in the local language, and handed over some coins. She gestured to Flint during part of the conversation as well, the man nodding along at her words and glancing around the table with wide eyes. The group chatted quietly and a few minutes later, the man returned carrying a tray of food. A savory soup, with greens and noodles was put in front of him. The steam wafting off it carried hints of beef and some spices he couldn’t name but smelled amazing. The rest of the table got their own bowlfuls along with weird spoons and sticks to eat it with. Flint was presented with a tiny bowl of fruit instead. Seeing the general confusion around the table, Captain Varska demonstrated the way to eat the dish, using the spoon for the broth and the sticks for the noodles. They all dug in, the sharp, bright flavors a pleasant difference from the heartier Meristan fare Leander was used to. He dripped quite a lot, and some of his noodles ended up on the table or floor. Those got slipped into Flint’s fruit bowl when no one was looking.

  “Hey. Nice monkey. How much?”

  The surprise at hearing Meristan hit him before the actual meaning of the words.

  “He’s not for sale!” Rebecca looked ready to jump at the man accosting them. He was one of the well-off but not rich customers. The slurred words and gentle sway, even when standing still, pointed to a man that had been drinking with purpose for a while. Another thing you learned to spot on the streets. If you were smart. Leaning around him Leander could see a couple of his friends coming over to see what was going on.

  “Come on, everything’s for sale. And we’re celebrating!” This was announced with a wave of his arms that had the man stumbling to the side. “We just struck it big. And we could use a monkey to join the crew, set us apart. Great marketing. So really, name a price.” The friends had joined him now and Leander tensed up.

  “Go away, you can’t have Flint.” Rebecca was standing, fearless.

  “Forget this.” One of the man’s friends must have had enough, because next thing they knew, he was leaning over to grab Flint. The lemur shrieked and scampered out of reach.

  Before anyone could say anything else, Rebecca hauled back and punched the man right in the face. “Ouch!” She was bent over holding her hand, but that was the last Leander could follow before chaos broke out.

  One of the drunks was coming towards him and a chair tumbled down to the side. He set his feet the way Martin taught and tried for a kick. Right when it should have hit the other guy, another chair hit his leg and made him fall over. He scrambled up and tackled the man instead, going for the midsection. Shouts in more than one language were crowding the air. It sounded like the whole bar had gotten in on the fight. There was no time to worry about that though. He had landed on top of his opponent but was freezing. This was his first bar fight and he wasn’t sure of the rules.

  While Leander was distracted, the man beneath him heaved and Leander went flying a couple meters away. Both combatants got to their feet to face off again. Leander reset his stance and waited for the other man. To his surprise, instead of attacking again, the man staggered a few steps to the side and heaved, vomiting up whatever he had been drinking. Leander was sure that counted as a win as he turned to find someone else threatening his sect.

  ********

  Laurel enjoyed her soup while the rest of the bar erupted into a fight. Maria remained sitting as well. The kids could handle this on their own, and if not, well, there were consequences for starting a fight in public. Best to learn those early. She handed a slice of fruit up to Flint where he was sitting on the back of her chair. The weak spirit beast knew where it would be safest, and had bolted behind Laurel when the fight began.

  “Dinner and a show eh,” Maria joked beside her.

  “It's good practice for the kids fighting someone who isn’t trying to kill you.”

  “Are we worried about them pulling out any cultivator tricks in a bar fight?”

  Laurel snorted. “They don’t know any tricks yet, but I’ll stop it if it goes too far.” They resumed eating, chatting as the rest of the group finished the fight. Mostly about how much the owner was going to demand from them, and how to make the kids work off the debt.