Tirren and Severin didn’t quite race along, as they rode together on the mana bike. Tirren had tried to convince the local guard at Varnell to give them two bikes, but they hadn’t wanted to give one to Severin, as he couldn’t direct mana into the drive force. Tirren had spent a day and a half under special guard, but when there hadn’t been any additional attempts on his life, he had been released without supervision.

  His superiors had received a letter from none other than Jefremov Devrius, the guard captain at the southeast border. He had requested they send Tirren as an escort for Severin. The letter hadn’t quite indicated who Severin was, but when dealing with the nobility, it was better to just do what they wanted, so long as it wasn’t too outlandish.

  So Tirren found himself sitting astride one of the mana bikes that were typically reserved for emergencies, with Severin sitting behind him. They were thus sitting, when a dull roar began behind them. Tirren was on high alert, but the sound continued unabated for several minutes, slowly growing in volume. He realized something was following them on the road.

  It was first visible as a plume of garish rainbow light. Soon a lone figure riding a manabike with strange extended handlebars and leather seats was visible. Once visible, Tirren could see that the man was smiling. Jefremov Devrius was riding a quite ridiculous manabike, and the plume of rainbow mana exhaust coming off the back, swallowed the whole road behind him. Tirren remembered passing several fellow travelers on the road. They would have to spend a couple of bewildered seconds blind from the massive rainbow exhaust.

  Tirren stopped his bike to allow the guard captain to catch up, and laid his face in his palm.

  When the Pearl Seidren arrived, the racket that his bike produced was stupendous. He said something, but Tirren couldn't hear him. He shouted. “What?” loudly, and Jefremov repeated himself. Tirren shouted” what” again, and Jefremov tried again. Tirren shouted “what?!” one last time, but right before he did, Jefremov shut off the bike, and so Tirren’s shouted question bounced around the surrounding forest.

  Tirren blushed, listening to the newfound silence.

  “You two look like you’ve been busy.”

  Tirren hadn’t realized that Severin had dismounted the bike and was bowing over his hands, silent and waiting for Jefremov to address him.

  “Stand up Severin. We have lots to do. We need to hurry. I had the fortune of having a sidecar attached to my bike. You can ride there.“

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  Severin answered with, “Yes, master.” and he hurried to the other side of the bike, and sat down in a small seat attached. He barely fit.

  “Let’s ride.” Jefremov announced. Tirren jumped on his bike, started it, and then tried to keep up.

  As they rode, Tirren was forced to exert himself. The bikes functioned on ambient mana, but they would only travel the speed of a slow walk. If the rider put mana into the drive force, they could go faster. Tirren found himself focusing intently on bringing mana into his mana well as much as he could, and he poured as much mana as he dared into the drive force. He was running a deficit, because if he didn’t pour more mana than he could draw in, he would fall behind Jefremov, and would be subjected to near blindness with the rainbow exhaust, which tasted faintly of summer heat. Finally, he scraped the bottom of his mana well, and he slowly started falling behind.

  So it was that he arrived at the camp Severin and Jefremov had set up three or four minutes after the party, riding on his bike as fast as a quick pedestrian. His mouth tasted like a warm road on a summer day.

  Severin was seated in a meditative position, hands together in an arcane symbol again. His eyes trembled beneath his eyelids in the way of someone thinking hard.

  “Good of you to join us!” Jefremov called good naturedly.

  Tirren was worn out, and wasn’t in the mood. He had been both expending and drawing in mana as fast as he could for the last several hours, and it had worn him down. Not to mention the quips from Mark the Demon, so he simply pulled out his bedroll and walked in a small circle until he found the springiest piece of forest ground, and he threw his roll down and fell into it.

  “Don’t forget to fill your mana well! We leave bright and early in the morning.” Jefremov called out again.

  Tirren refrained from throwing one shoe at the noble, and set to drawing in the ambient mana of the forest through his base chakra. Tired as he was, Tirren fell asleep sometime during the process, so when he woke, he found himself distracted as he continued to pull mana in, and distractedly chewed through breakfast. Jefromov had cooked a surprising amount of food. They were on the road again quickly, the sun just coming up over the trees.

  Riding through the changing landscape, Tirren thought that the worst part about Jefremov was his indelibly cheerful perspective on life. However, as they crested a hill overlooking the guard post, Jefremov’s demeanor changed, and Tirren saw why.

  The post was a large gray wall that spanned from one canyon side to the other. There was a gaping hole through one portion of the stone that made up the wall, and the fort on the inside of the wall was visible. It looked like evil snowmen had gotten tired of a lifetime of being pushed over, and had come and pushed a hole in the settlement’s border wall.

  Ice coated many surfaces, and large shards of ice and other crystal growths stuck up in different locations. Jefremov cut his bike, and braked hard, his wheels sliding to a stop. He jumped out and barked at Tirren.”

  “Manasight open, stay here until I come get you.