Chained - 7 (Patreon)

For all the contempt I have for them morally, they don’t lack in physical strength—though brains, that’s a different story. Their whole expedition counts on Gaius, but the others start off with him trailing along last except for me. I’d have others positioned flanking him, at the very least.

Though I don’t mind the view—clad as he is in leather leggings and tunic—an outfit that makes his broad shoulders and flexing muscles clear. A new Chain Minion within my shroud has me keeping pace silently as I enjoy the view.

Licking the air, I taste snow and consider the darkening clouds blowing in across our path.

“The night seemed long.”

Gaius’ words in the pre-storm stillness carry to me, and Horatia’s reply comes while I still debating saying anything. “Likely it’s just because of how tired you were.”

“In the North, on at least one world I know of towards mid-winter, the sun won’t come up for weeks,” I offer, and Vitus glares my way as if I’d slapped him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. There is only one world, and the sun comes up every day. Mithras’ power ensures it.”

Vitus’ retort lacks the zealot edge it had earlier, and pleasure trickles through my core even before I dig at him. “There is more than this world that Hell is in contact with, and we’re going to lose the light well before sunset today.”

“Another of your lies?” accuses Vitus, shooting me a glare that I reward with a sugary sweet smile.

“Stop it Vitus, you’re on thin ice with me,” Inger warns—though her scent is reluctant—gliding along ahead of the others, she shot a glance down the line at me. “Sidero isn’t lying. We’re going to be fighting through a snowstorm soon.”

“Not just a snowstorm; Ice storms coming off Hell’s glaciers taste warmer,” I warn, and savour Inger’s wince.

“If we stop for every storm, we’re going to lose too much time,” Senca states, the obvious concern deepening his tone and the sharp citrus sparking in his scent heralds fear.

“We know why we weren’t in position earlier. Vitus’ claims of the right Omens aside; when did they close the trap on your family Gaius?” Titus asks his halt prompting the rest to stop.

“Two weeks ago,” admits Gaius, his reluctance clear. “They ordered me to assist, and the contract negotiations took time.”

“Two weeks! That isn’t long enough to negotiate a restricted contract with Hell,” Inger breathes, as her stare lands on me.

A smile twists my lips as I answer her implied question. “Apparently, someone agreed the contract was his issue. There is a note in it about him being a representative under orders of the Church of Mithras. I’d be certain that Hell’s lawyers put that note about the parties of the 2nd part in the contract.”

“That’s not true,” sputters Vitus.

“Your group’s little pact recognised it as truth. Could that be because of your own twisted involvement in ruining his family’s fortune?” I say, and enjoy his face turning flame red. ‘I even suggested Flavius check it, but he wasn’t interested.”

“What are our options if stopping isn’t sensible?” asks Horatia, her focus on pushing the conversation back on track amusing me. “Or perhaps a better question: what issues do we need to overcome?

“From the blizzards I’ve been in: the sheer cold, making any headway in the winds, and not getting separated. The sensible thing is to hunker down and wait them out if you’ve supplies, but it isn’t our problem,” Inger replied.

“Though apparently cooking them is.”

Martialis’ low mutter is barely on the edge of my hearing, but the others don’t react so I leave it be.

“She’s stirring up trouble, that’s all this is!” Vitus’ snarl has enough force to echo in the still air, and I catch a taste of murderous radiant rage from Gaius. I expect him to at least glare, but his eyes stay away from the Priest. It doesn’t taste of anything bitter or vile like other anger, rather burns my nose and throat so sweetly. It’s an inhalation like biting into a ghost chilli seed when expecting mild salsa, the heat of it searing into my taste buds and making me moan.

“Can you rope us together?” Titus asks, ignoring my sounds of pleasure.

Inger nods thoughtfully and pulls equipment from a small pack—even the first harness that comes out shouldn’t fit in it. “That’ll stop us getting separated, but skiing into the wind is exhausting, and almost impossible if it really hits hard.”

“You all have fun toys,” I purr licking the taste of magic from the air. The spatial energy that wafts from the bag tastes like pop-rocks bubbling on my tongue, all sweet and jumpy—hmm, I like that idea.

“Have the bitch tow us,” Vitus says, turning his hate-filled glare my way. “If she leads us off course, isn’t that impeding our expedition?”

I lock my gaze on his, and his anger holds him from flinching from whatever he sees, even as his brow furrows from the strain. “Is that a request for me to wrap a chain around you?”

“How cold are your chains?” asks Inger sharply—and sensibly—before Vitus can reply and continues at the frown of confusion from others. “I heard a tree explode from being frozen; a chain was touching it.”

“They’re as cold or colder than where we’ll be going, of that I’m sure,” I reply, and enjoy her wince.

“Come here so I can test my resistance against them,” orders Inger.

“Say the magic words,” I insist, adding a sulky tone despite the twisted smile I keep in place.

Inger’s baffled look earns a bark of laughter from me before she can say a thing. “What are you talking about?”

“Say my name, and you’ve hurt my feelings, so you’ll need to add a please Inger,” I say, and watch her face still.

“Hurt feelings,” Martialis’ low mutter carries this time and gets him a stern look from Inger.

“Sidero, would you come here, please?” asks Inger. She bites off each word with enough pressure to tear out a throat. Acidic bile of rage roils through her scent, though her expression remains as cold as an ice lake.

As I shake my head, her gaze burns hot but cools rapidly in confusion as I give her an actual smile and motion at Gaius. “He needs to be further forward in the group; I won’t move forward without someone at his back.”

“Now I really don’t understand you Devil, you keep providing warnings,” Titus mutters and my rage ignites.

“I’m a Kyton, not a Devil, so that’s your first mistake,” I hiss, and the sudden glow from my eyes paints the snow yellow. A memory of Rachael joking about yellow snow cools my rage; still, I smile with too many teeth on display. “Mortals call us Chain Devils, but we’re not. The Devils are interlopers, latecomers; my mother was there before Asmodeus and his armies.”

“You might call yourself a Kyton, but you're still a Devil-” Martialis argues.

The moment I direct my smile his way, the words freeze on his lips. “I might call you Pollen, but that doesn’t make you flower cum.”

“Enough! I’ll guard Gaius, Sidero, you have my word. If the day will be short as you said we’re wasting too much time,” Titus says, but I wait until he skies into position before I move ahead.

As I move past Vitus, I smile and kill a barren shrub. A chain’s caress, sending branches and twigs crumbling to the ground shattered by the cold. “Maybe you should have looked at the trail I left behind yesterday.”

I ignore his heated mutters and move ahead to Inger smiling at her so sweetly that I’m sure I could induce a diabetic coma. “You called sweetie.”

“Don’t-”

“Don’t what? I’m not calling you bitch, Devil or any other insult I’ve heard directed my way,” I say flatly, letting the smile dissolve from my lips.

“Please, just call me Inger. Would you hold up a chain for me, Sidero?” Inger asks in an unexpectedly reasonable tone, though I can taste the strain in her composure without even a flick of my tongue.

A spike flicks towards her face. At the last moment, it changes into a metal hand and stops within easy reach.

“Like this?”

“Without the Skald’s dramatics would have been better,” Inger retorts mildly, and touches the back of her hand to the metal.

I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or not, but she doesn’t hiss in pain nor scream. She holds still for a time, before nodding thoughtfully. “I can resist that personally, and have my equipment do so, but not hold such protection over a group for long.”

“Should you have told me that?” I ask curiously, letting a teasing smile show.

“Titus is right. What is it with you?” Inger asks, confusion cooling anger.

The smile on my lips turns real as I change the subject. “What did you have in mind? With my chains that is?”

“Harnesses, you tow me; and I have harnesses rigged, so we tow the others behind us,” explains Inger. “You don’t tire easily, do you?”

My guffaw of laughter clearly isn’t what she expects.

“Will you co-operate, or not, Sidero?” Inger asks her tone just a hair short of demand.

“There is not hindering and then there is actively helping outside the agreed contract. I have a price for my help in such a way,” I reply and watch as suspicion crushed her calm to dust.

“No deal,” snaps Inger.

“You don’t even know what I want. I want Gaius to give me a kiss, a proper kiss, one before we start now, and one after each break until we get there. Or you could kiss me. I wouldn’t object to your kisses Inger, you do look lovely,” I say, considering her curves with a lingering intent.

The look of disbelief and disgust grows in her gaze as my explanation continues. “You expect me to-“

“I expect nothing! I’ve given my terms. Whether you accept is up to you or Gaius. But I’ll accept kisses only from the two of you, as for the rest: Senca’s leering sickens me, biting Vitus seems preferable, Horatia is colder than you, Martialis is a dickhead, Quinctus… well I’m not into dead people even if I can see them. Finally, that brings us to Titus. What can I say? While a hard man is good to find, he’s too rigid for my tastes.”

“I won’t-“

I wave a hand to stop her, and Inger cuts off like I threw a switch. “I’ll not force you to do anything. It's an offer, not a demand. Gaius? Would you kiss me?”

Purring the words I gaze back down the expedition’s line, When my chains vanish into Inventory, I can see the mixture of familiar emotions in his gaze fixed on my suddenly naked form. Heated desire, and bitter revulsion, the last twists like a knife inside me, yet even that pain brings such pleasure.

“What sort of kiss?” asked Gaius, the suspicion in his tone melting under the confused emotions heating his gaze.

“A proper kiss, full mouth, maybe even a little tongue. What’s a little tongue between friends, virgin boy?”

Gaius’ gaze hardens, but I notice his pants doing the same. “If I find your kisses revulsive?”

“I’m sure you won’t, but if you stop providing kisses, I’ll stop towing the group. No hurt feeling, just an end to the deal. But if you simply lay back and think of Nova Roma, I won’t count it as a proper kiss. The chains will even be off when I kiss you. I wouldn’t want you hurt—not accidentally.”

Inger clears her throat interrupting my clarifications, and I give her a sweet smile. Before I can dig at her I hear skis moving and turn back to find Gaius moving with Titus following behind. Without the chains holding me up, I’m standing shin-deep in snow, but it evens our heights.

When he comes to a stop close enough to touch me, I smile and catch him off guard. “Pick a word, something you would never say while actually having fun. Even if you’re pretending, you’re not.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Words can have so many meanings out of context. Say don’t, or say stop, and that’s clear, say Don’t stop and things get confusing. Pick a word you would never say even in jest if you want your fun to continue. If you say that word or even murmur it, I’ll stop at once.”

“Flavius,” Gaius growls, and my shudder of revulsion makes my breasts bounce.

“Yes, became he’d kill the mood even for a Succubus. We’ll get to safe signs later. Now don’t open your mouth for the kiss. Just part your lips slightly. Let me do the work and follow my lead. It will come naturally with practice.” I straddle his skis as I speak, and note his gaze trace the branches scarring my breasts.

As our lips touch, I get a surprise of my own—his lips aren’t cold in the winter chill. Whatever protections he’s got in place are keeping him warm, not just preventing harm. Human warm lips moving silken softly against mine draw a sigh of genuine pleasure from my throat. His kiss, so unsure, is sedate and more than a little cute. Teenage memories of fumbling with boyfriends dig painfully and stir into stranger pleasures as lifting a hand, I run fingers through his hair.

I feel his own fingers rest lightly against the curve of my hips as he braces for balance, and my lips curve into a smile against his as I slowly draw out the lingering kiss. The firmness of his tongue responds to my own as I dart through gently parted lips. My body presses against his, and reaction grows firmer still, as I move to caress down his back. The solid muscles under his shirt, react to my touch, and I press the kiss for a moment longer before I slowly retreat.

When I finally draw back, he’s blinking as if I whacked him between the eyes, and his hands are still cradling the swell of my hips. The warmth of them contrasts so nicely with the chilled air, and I want his warm fingers inside me.

“Now was that so bad?” I ask with a silken purr; aware his dick is straining his pants. The awkward angle makes the contact minimal, but it lets me measure him enough. He’ll be a nice comfortable fit inside me and yet rub all the right spots. Far better than the stupidly large slongs the Devils that possess dicks have; especially since they drive in and try to fuck the top off my womb.

“No,” stammers Gaius, yet I don’t like the unpleasant emotions rising behind his bashful desires.

“Yes,” Inger snaps.

I smile sweetly at our audience and notice only Titus is alert for approaching dangers. “Did I say any of you had to watch? I’m paid, so get behind me bitch, and get your straps on. Oh sorry, I meant Inger. Hope you folks can hang on because I’m tired of all your slow pokes, oh I meant your pace. Isn’t my tongue just all slippery now?”

Titus snorts at my remark, and I’m glad at least one of them understood it.

Inger’s glare doesn’t fade, but she pulls out more climbing harnesses. A few minutes later she’s stepping lightly across snow again, without a single footprint in her wake. She doesn’t make an impression when she kneels to help them free from skis, into the harnesses and back again. Whatever magic is at work doesn’t stop the ropes from leaving snake tracks whenever they shift about. If anything shows up, we need to fight. Well, it’s going to be a bitch.

Gaius’ gaze hasn’t left me, but the scent of his desire still mixes with revulsion, and the tinge of hate is growing stronger.

I click my fingers in front of his face to break his gaze. “Pleasure, pain, hate, love, be careful of how you flip those coins, Gaius. Though I’d remind you I’m not the one you should hate: did I negotiate the contract, manipulate your family, or even pick you? Heck, it was your choice to sign in the end, and I don’t even get your Soul—Hell does—the most I’ll get is a job well done.”

‘Why do you care?” Gaius asks accusingly.

“You’re staring at me with hate. One monster that fucked you over is right there, and not once have you looked at him with such hate,” I say motioning back to where Vitus was staring at us. ”Shouldn’t your hatred focus on those that force you to sell your Soul you stupid wanker. Hell doesn’t give refunds, and you sold it for someone else's gain. For such an apparently smart man you’re completely stupid.”

“I kept my family free,” insists Gaius, and the affection I’d felt from the sweet innocence of his kiss dies.

Bitter fury grabs me by the throat and rage hisses in my reply. “No, you just bought them a chance to repeat their mistakes. Go hate on someone else.”

I stab fingers back along the line, and he shoots a look at Vitus who suddenly finds anywhere else fascinating the coward.

“Such concern is strange, Sidero,” observes Titus, and I close my mouth, wondering if I’ve already said too much. Talking with Mortals feels so casual, even baiting them. Did I drop my guard? I can’t understand giving up his Soul, but then I still have mine and it’s chained to Hell.

My chains return from Inventory and weight settle around me reassuringly, pressing down as they lift me from the snow. My arms stay crossed as I wait for Inger to finish fussing and she puts Gaius inline between herself and Titus.

“Ensure you don’t seal us together. I’ll need to get free to fight anything that comes at us.”

It’s an innocent comment, but Inger glares as if I told her how to take a dump. The chains I stretch out to her lose their spikes and she clips her harness to them with more pure white ropes. Winter-white strands they taste of ice, mithril, and spiders butts, though I had the desire to know what they taste like—memories from my Dragon’s blood are a bitch. The power in the spider silk had hidden the mithril before; wire as thin as spider-webs, I can feel with them connected to my chains. I’m glad I didn’t tell them of my metal control. Though I’ve got more than enough strength to lift them all, now I’ve got a long fulcrum that starts so nice and close to any I need to move about.

“Titus, that plum line you used to check the direction. The end was metal, yes?”

It’s not a look that could kill, but his stare is hard as steel and sharp. “Correct.”

“Did you use a Blessing to have it guide you or is it enchanted?”

Titus frowns at my continued question. “Why the interest in my guide?”

“Did I say we’ll stop when nightfall hits?” I reply, and smile as he winces. “We’re going to keep going until people absolutely need to stop and rest. I’ll need something to stop from getting lost. Now does the guide as you call it, have a metal end?”

Titus nodded and patted the pouch I’d seen him put it way in. “It has an iron end on it.”

“Then you won’t even need to pass it to me, I’ll ask you to bring it out from time to time. I should be able to feel which way it's pointing since you’re so close.”

My answer causes Titus to frown, but I give a yell we’re off and don’t give him time to ask more. Inger curses the moment it looks like I’m heading for a tree. I wait till it looks as if I’ll hit it before I use Inventory to cut it off at ground level and toss it to one side. The curses turn more personal after that, and I note her word choices.

* * *

A churned caterpillar trail cut through the wilderness is left in our wake through the morning. Even with their nature calls, we’ve covered far more ground than the previous day. The only fun I get is occasionally setting my chains to do the work and turning back to face Inger. Though she catches on far too quickly that I only resort to it when I have a clear run. It’s more a challenge of picking a viable path than a physical one. The whole reverse-dogsled of our setup making things difficult, especially on the downhill runs, I have to pick the shallowest slopes I can find, otherwise they’re trying to run up my arse before I know it. Gaius is only at first base, fourth with a twist is beyond him.

The undulating trail has Eternal Map growing quick. While the storm holds off longer than I thought, the black clouds taste bitter and mean with spite. Within their heights, I can taste the winds stirring the ice about but hold off warning them. When the blizzard starts, the ice announces itself by hitting hard. Cries of pain from along my tail quickly ceasing shows the usefulness of Priests: prayers sheath them in protections whose divinity I can taste.

A fist-sized ice ball bounces off my shoulder, but it does nothing to me. An accompanying yelp from Inger prompts me to look back, only to find her staring at my shoulder wide-eyed.

“You don’t need protection, do you?” asks Inger, her yell barely audible over the wind. Snow and ice swirls between us, a thickening mist ready to swallow the world.

I’m not sure if she hears my laughter over the noise, but I continue onwards paying attention to the metal in the lines. Their tension and positioning the only thing I can use to tell if anyone’s still upright as the blizzard set in. Bitch that I am, I still have my limits. A kilometre on I can feel Vitus tip, and I’m almost tempted to push him down; instead, I used the metal in the lines and his harness to pull him upright. He won’t ask and I’m sure not telling.

[Achievement: Guide Dog

Condition: Have others trusting, desperate, or stupid enough to count on you to lead them through blinding conditions.

Reward: Eternal Map [Ap] (10) -> [J](10)]

After having leant on Eternal Map for hours, it unfolds an extra surprise with the message. Jumped out of apprentice ranks, it set an overlay across my vision. The map had been a memory I’d needed to check on before. Now it provides an overlay complete with a visible fog of war. Though the feature is new, I can pick out the history of our meandering path. Pushing ahead, I see the overlay’s fog receding before me even as the blizzard grips harder still. I now have the means to tell if I’m moving the right way and adjust back northwards. I’m sure the gimmick would thrill Julia but I’m just glad not to have to turn the frigging map about.

The intensity of the white-out slows my pace, and repeatedly my outstretched hands find trees ahead. There’s no point using a chain to probe for them; the wind would simply steal the sound of shattering wood. Inventory complains as I pull a tree apart, and I find the ability didn’t absorb the lot. Above the wind, I hear the upper branches creaking, and the wind whistles through them as it falls. Stupid Massive Tree. I take a step back and pull the bottom section back from Inventory and its reappearance smashes the top away. The growing slackness reminds me of my payload and I’m glad—well, sort of—that the top didn’t just flip their way.

My awareness gripping the metal lets me slow their pace and return the tree’s base into Inventory—then eject it away. Rest over, I get back to work. Moments later, I find the fallen canopy blocking my way. Flurrying chains shatter branches, letting me push my way through as dust swirls away on the breeze.

The trudge through the white is mind-numbing. White, so thick I can barely see a metre away. Ice and tree sap filling my mouth has long since drowned my tastebuds. Maple’s sweetness mixed with the awful bitterness of the rest. Rock under my hands sets me digging and digging as the day’s expansion of Inventory fills. There’s a change in the ropes as the last of the living cargo is out of the wind. Though the best use of Inventory today is getting the sap from my mouth. The yellow glow from my eyes illuminates the darkness as I turn back to Inger with a wide smile.

“Was that good for you too, Inger?”

“I think...,” groans Inger, slumping against the tunnel’s side. “I‘m going to die.”

I lick the air and realise two important facts: the air is heavy with a pre-dawn taste even covered by the blizzard, and someone had need of a rest break in the night. “Don’t let me keep you.”

[Time Sense Unlocked

Time Sense (1)]

I release Inger’s harness before she can slump onto the chains and lift them away. My will grips my chains and I lift them off but keep them floating in the air. Mother will be furious if she learns how I’ve behaved with them. Slumped in the narrow tunnel as they are, I can’t risk killing one with a caress from the chains.

Martialis murmurs words and the second odour vanishes, though I don’t know if it was his mess or if he was just offended first. Still, it shows something about his priorities given his position can’t be comfortable on his legs. None of them have passed out, but they’re nearly all on their last legs.

The rock is polished smooth from Inventory’s cuts, and I step carefully over each heading for the outside world. I see exhaustion etched in each of the living except Titus. Gaius doesn’t even look up at me as I step over him. Guess I’ll get paid later.

Titus turns and puts his back to the wall to let me pass, making it clear how snug I cut the tunnel. “I take it you didn’t tow us in circles”

“No, I figured out how to steer us in the right direction, once I got my bearing on this Plane,” I say brightly. His gaze narrows at my tone but he doesn’t hinder me. I can feel the metal of my chains and an idle thought of killing them now rises in my mind. It would let Gaius free, and I care nothing for their prophecy.

Halting in front of Titus almost purely for fun, I taste his discomfort at my naked closeness, despite his unyielding gaze. “How far did we cover that first day?”

“Perhaps fifteen miles as we measure them in Nova Roma. Though what a meaningful measurement for you would be, I’ve no interest in learning. Why don’t you move along, Sidero? Forced night marches—even when being towed—are hard on us mere Mortals.”

Titus’ voice doesn’t hold a hint of exhaustion, but I can taste it on his flesh. I wonder if it's a learned discipline to avoid displaying it in front of centurions, or just his rigid nature. The tangy bitterness in the air about each of them I can only assume is lactic acid, but my Dragon blood says only yummy, exhausted prey. He’s so close it's tempting to lick him, even if he’s dangerous prey to entertain play. The military vibe from him goes far below the skin, but it's presently stressed steel. Would it fracture easily?

The glow from my eyes so close is doing unflattering things to his skin tone, and his gaze narrows as I reply. “Oh, don’t be that way. Look! Quinctus is looking spry as ever.”

He only snorts and doesn’t take his eyes from me. When I slide past he doesn’t bother speaking further, but I can feel his gaze stay on me. Senca and Vitus have slid to the ground by the time I reach them, and I feel the former’s eyes weighing on my crotch as I step over him. A decade with this lot is going to be such fun! The time ahead stirs thoughts of NASA crew tests. I can’t help but wonder if they ever did a study on how bad things with a dysfunctional, mismatched group could get.

“Did time slip from you, or were you trying to pull them there in a day? The ropes secured to me became as rigid as bars once the blizzard hit. Was that a Spell or a Power over things connected to your chains?”

Quinctus’ question makes me wonder if I’d held them upright with Metal Control unconsciously. The harness and ropes are of the same material and, after Vitus had tipped, I hadn’t wanted them to fall. Would I have been able to keep towing the others onwards even if they’d all died in the traces?

“If you were so concerned, why didn’t one of you cast a Blessing to stop me?” I ask, and Quinctus just tilts his head at the question.

“You said we’d be travelling through the night until we absolutely had to stop. I’d hazard a guess that none of them wanted to be the first asking for a halt. Perhaps Gaius was hoping to avoid another scolding or delivering your payment. For myself, I was fine to proceed for years yet, it was an interesting journey through snowy oblivion. You’re a careful if strange wagon driver.”

The mixture of observation and admissions just makes me smile, even with the dig included. “Maybe that’s because I enjoy pulling on things, Quinctus. It’s a shame your flesh is well and truly past that. Did they salt you before or after you died?”

“Before, it's part of the process,” Quinctus’ blunt response causes me to snort at the unexpected honesty.

His hood normally hides the faint red glow in his eyes but are they’re visible in the near darkness as he shifts to look at me fully. Together, we make a darn fine set of emergency lighting. “Why are you along on this journey, Quinctus? Wouldn’t it be safer for your undead preserved hide not to be dragging it around the countryside?”

“I have my instructions, and my Master has a part to play in what is coming. I’m here to ensure he’s properly represented, and undue influences don’t steer things off the required course,” says Quinctus. The taste of his breath in the confines isn’t unpleasant. Up close, he smells of myrrh and sandalwood, or something similar. The scents puff across me when he speaks, but I don’t taste either about his exterior. It makes me curious how they preserved him.

I motion for him to move aside curiosity about their supposed prophecy stirring in me. Though I know some things are best left well alone.

At the end of the tunnel, I eject the stone I’d cut away down the slope. The mass of it tumbling away prompts me to check my Profile, and that gives me something real to smile about at least. Inventory might have let me down early on, but the workout it got has pushed it along.

“How were you expecting to make it there in time?”

I hear Quinctus shift about and feel his gaze fix on my back. “Titus has Blessings that allow legions to cover vast distances quickly to take up their duty station with auxiliaries. Since we didn’t bring them with us, they won’t work.”

“Well, we’d better figure out a better way to travel, because I don’t want to move slowly.”